Gordon's eating lunch alone when Barney drops into the seat across from him, heavily. He sighs, head tipped back, and slowly makes eye contact with the scientist, who's chewing his peanut butter and jelly.

"I gotta go to Texas," he says, sounding like it's the last damn thing he'd like to do on this earth. Gordon quirks an eyebrow and almost smiles but stops himself.

<Why?>

"My lil sister's getting married," Barney says, looking about as miserable as he ever has. "Lindsey," he clarifies, as if Gordon doesn't know his sisters' names.

It's more than a little confusing, the dread that seems to envelop Barney for the rest of the week. They narrowly avoid a fight when Gordon suggests that he go with him, and Barney raises his voice and then sighs, apologizes, says it's not worth fighting about, that Gordon wouldn't want to be there.

But Gordon pushes the issue until Barney relents, saying they can be miserable together with a sad smile.

Gordon really doesn't get it.

---

The flight to Texas is a quiet one, other than the four screaming babies and the roar of the airplane around them. Gordon seriously considers just going to sleep, but Barney looks so stressed and upset. He doesn't want to leave him alone with his thoughts.

So he spends much of the flight trying to sign to Barney, who barely responds. Half an hour before they descend, Gordon gives up and lets his hands land in his lap wordlessly. Barney stares out the window in silence. It's so weird. Gordon reaches for him as the plane lands. Barney's usually all about public displays of affection, but now he shrugs Gordon's hand away from him, shakes his head without an explanation

It's as if Barney's suddenly changed his mind about... everything. Him, especially. Gordon's trying not to be too hurt, because for all he knows, Barney's just nauseous from the flight.

They step out onto the tarmac into the heat that Gordon's learned to associate with this part of the planet, and head for the gate. Despite the sour, silent trip, Gordon's excited to meet Barney's family. He's coaxed details about them from Barney one at a time over the past year and a half, little tidbits of information about his home life, his childhood, his two sisters. Gordon, as an only child, is immeasurably jealous that Barney gets not one but two siblings, and has told him as much on two separate occasions while Barney was complaining about them.

He's so excited, it takes him a full minute to realize that they've passed through the gate to no welcome party. No one is there waiting for them, not a single "WELCOME, BARNEY AND GORDON!" sign.

Maybe that's normal here, he lies to himself, trying not to look at the various WELCOME and WE MISSED YOU signs other families are holding to greet their loved ones.

Barney leads the way to pick up a rental car, something he hadn't mentioned to Gordon, leaving him in the dust. Gordon sighs. He's starting to feel like a tag-along, trailing around after his boyfriend like a stranger. He decides to just stay put and wait with the bags while Barney gets the keys. He comes back grumbling.

<What's wrong,> Gordon signs, searching his face for an answer.

"Nothin, darl... Nothin, don't worry about it." Gordon knows that Barney knows that he noticed the slip, and he knows that Barney knows that it hurts him, but neither of them say anything. "S'just they gave me about the worst truck they could've," Barney says, forcing a smile. Like it's a joke. All just a joke.

Gordon mirrors the expression, right down to the pain in his eyes.

He doesn't get what all the fuss is about, when they get into the rental. It's nice, new. Shiny. Gordon's not used to such big vehicles, and thinks it's pretty cool to be flying down the highway towards Barney's folks' ranch, but doesn't sign anything. Barney clutches the steering wheel like it might wrench itself away and fling itself out on the highway behind them.

They take an exit off the highway sooner than he'd expected. Gordon watches the scenery pass them: Texas, so different from Washington, even different from New Mexico--not that he's seen a lot of the latter. He's about to ask Barney something when he pulls off the road at a little motel.

Gordon's heart sinks. The place is a dump, yes, but that's not why. Barney won't look at him, just hops out and heads into the motel to check in. Gordon climbs down and follows him.

There's a woman in her sixties with spiked white hair at the front counter, reading a magazine, and two kids reading all the brochures and stealing sugar packets from the free coffee bar. "Y'all got a reservation?" the woman asks, and Barney approaches the counter to confirm.

"Under Calhoun," he says, and the woman nods, then slowly lifts her head to look at his face.

"You Ed's boy?"

Gordon sees him flinch as if he's been struck, but Barney stands his ground. "Yes ma'am." He hands over his credit card, and the woman looks it over, pursing her lips, and hands it back.

"Sorry, Mister Calhoun, but we've got no vacancy."

Gordon expects a fight, for Barney to shout or at least ask why, but instead he just nods, takes the credit card back, and beckons for Gordon to follow him out to the car. The woman at the counter shakes her head as they leave, picking up the phone beside her antique computer.

<What was that,>Gordon asks, when they're back in the truck. <We had a reservation, right?>

"It's okay," Barney chokes, but he sounds like he's already on the verge of something. A panic attack, possibly. "There's... there's other places to stay, don't worry."

They drive on in silence, back onto the highway, off at another exit. But the story is the same at every motel, motor inn, and even the two bed and breakfasts he tries before giving up. No vacancy, we're full, and one manager even sneers at him that he wouldn't rent to Ed's boy for a million bucks.

Gordon is very confused. Barney rests his face on the steering wheel, breathing hard, like this is a lot for him. He glances over at Gordon, who starts to sign something to him.

<Barney...>

"It's okay, don't worry. We'll, uh... we'll go ask mom if we can crash in my old room."

Are we being hatecrimed, Gordon wants to ask, but he also doesn't think it will be funny right now. They drive on, back on the highway for a bit, then through miles of great, open land. Gordon feels pretty awful at this point, but he can only imagine how bad Barney must feel, if this is his homecoming.

At least they're going to his family's place. At least Gordon will finally meet his folks, and they can have a nice, sit-down, Texas dinner and go to sleep holding each other.

Barney turns off onto another road, and a farmhouse rises in the distance, classic, but new construction, obviously. A number of other buildings dot the property, big as it is, and Gordon recalls what Barney's told him about his dad's ranch: Cows for slaughter, horse breeding. He's described it as very clinical and hands-off, not cowboy-like at all, but Gordon still manages to imagine Barney as some kind of western hero, riding towards him on a dark horse.

Barney pulls up to the big house and climbs out, boots kicking up dust when he starts towards the door. Gordon follows cautiously, sneezing. This place is not good for his hay allergies. He's going to have to get some Zyrtec or something before the day ends.

Barney stops outside of the big, welcoming door, bordered on either side by manicured hedges. The whole place is beautifully maintained, like a perfectly decorated magazine cover. Gordon looks around some more as Barney takes a big breath, exhales loudly, and rings the bell.

About a minute passes before anyone answers. The door swings open, and a stout woman with short, curled salt-and-pepper hair stands there, looking shocked to see him.

"Barney?"

"Hey, ma."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Barney is silent for a minute, as if he doesn't have an answer for that. "Lindsey invited me," he says finally, eyes downcast. His mother sighs.

"Ed's not gonna be happy," she says finally. "Who's this you brought with you?"

"Gordon," Barney calls, beckoning him over. "He's my, uh, work buddy."

"Mhmm." His mom doesn't look pleased with that, just looks Gordon up and down like he's one of her cattle, about to be sent to slaughter. "Well."

"I was thinkin we could just stay in my old room--"

"Lauren's boys are staying in there," she cuts him off. A long, uncomfortable pause punches into the air, and finally she sighs again. "But we've got the hideaway in the basement."

"Thanks, ma."

"Ed's gonna be pissed," she says, repeating her earlier sentiment. "Get in here, c'mon."

Barbara--"Barbie," as she introduces herself to Gordon, who just nods. He figures Barney's folks aren't going to learn to sign for him right away--leads them into the house, up a couple of steps, down a hallway, through the kitchen to the basement door. It strikes Gordon as a bit odd, but he's busy juggling his suitcase and carry-on, too busy to think very hard about how she seemed to have taken the back route.

The house is like a shrine to the Calhoun family. There's a big portrait in the foyer of Edmond and Barbie and their three dogs. Framed photos hang on every wall, meticulously arranged and perfectly level--again, as if he were looking at a magazine, Gordon thinks. Even the wall beside the staircase down to the basement is plastered with family photos, professionally taken. They hit the lower level and Barbie wrings her hands a little, then rethinks it and crosses her arms.

"Ed'll be home in a couple hours," she says. "Stay out of the family room. I'll bring you dinner."

"Thanks, ma," Barney croaks, dropping onto the larger of the two couches and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"...Next time you think about comin' home, why don't you call first," Barbie says, and dodges around Gordon to get back to the stairs.

It feels so awkward. And bad. Gordon's starting to get it, the apprehension, the anxiety, the insistence that he stay back at Black Mesa. He's starting to see the whole picture, he thinks, as he approaches the mantle to look at the family photos there, pictures all the way back to the 80's, maybe earlier. Barbie and Ed with baby Lauren. Barbie's hair is all black, no grey, but poofier, too. There's a photo of young Lauren with baby Lindsey, holding her clumsily but joyously. A family photo of the Calhoun clan, dogs included, and--

It hits Gordon like a gunshot, right through the gut. His stomach churns, and he bites his lip, looking back at Barney. He hasn't moved since he sat down, other than to rest his face in his hands.

Gordon approaches, glancing back at the mantel, eyes flickering to the two adjacent walls, similarly decorated. He sits down next to Barney, lets their knees bump together, and rests a hand on his shoulder. "Barney..."

"Yeah," Barney says, and then scrubs furiously at his face, as if to hide any evidence of distress. "Yeah, I'm good."

<You're not in any of the pictures,> Gordon signs to him, eyes sad. Barney sighs, and looks for a moment like he might start crying. Ultimately he just shakes his head and takes Gordon's hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

"S'okay."

<Why?>

"Try not to worry about it, darlin," Barney sighs. "I'm beat. Could go for a nap right now..."

They move away the coffee table and pull out the hideaway bed, where Barney lies down, kicking his dusty boots off onto the floor, and doesn't sleep. Gordon knows from firsthand experience that he snores, and there's no way he's breathing easier here.

The room is silent for about an hour and a half. Gordon flips through one of the books he brought with, just in case, and Barney lays on the pull-out couch-bed, pretending to doze.

The door at the top of the stairs swings open and bangs into the wall, and they both startle at the footsteps rushing down the steps towards them. It's Lindsey, who throws herself in a hug at Barney just as he starts to sit up. She's got shoulder-length black hair, slightly curly, and a petite frame like Barney, but with none of the extra weight.

"Ow."

"You were supposed to text me! I can't believe you're really here, mom's pissed."

"I know," Barney sighs.

"Dad's gonna kill someone," Lindsey muses, and then seems to notice Gordon for the first time. She looks back and forth between him and Barney and purses her lips a bit, then smiles and straightens up.

"So you're Barney's... boyfriend, huh?"

It's the first thing anyone besides Barney has said directly to him just about all day, and Gordon blinks a bit, nods.

"So..." Lindsey says. "How'd you two meet?"

"Work," Barney says gruffly.

"I don't wanna hear from you," Lindsey says, shoving his shoulder when Barney gets up to start hunting for his boots. "Let him tell me."

There are about half a dozen things that make her request difficult, starting with the furtive glance and head shake Barney gives him and ending with the communication issue, but Gordon forces a small smile and starts to sign. Lindsey's smile fades into confusion for a second, then she turns around and wacks Barney on the shoulder.

"You idiot, you coulda told me he's deaf."

"Excuse my sister, Gordon, she's an idiot," Barney says, unzipping his suitcase, then his carryon, looking for something. Lindsey follows him, punching him in the shoulder until he complains again.

"Nice boots, doofus."

"Don't you have a fiance to be dealing with?"

"Chuck's out with dad," Lindsey says. "He's busy trying to be the son he always wanted."

Something crackles in the air. The hair on the back of Gordon's neck stands up and he looks nervously over at Barney.

Barney chokes out a laugh, fake, and resumes digging through his bag.

Lindsey doesn't seem to apologize, and Gordon's not sure if she's even noticed what she said that hurt him, just continues on: "I'd stay out of Dan's way too, he's on the warpath."

"Thanks," Barney says. "Good to know."

"Lauren's trying to keep him reined in, but you know how he is..."

Barney nods and rubs his face again. "I know," he croaks.

"Well, he probably won't get violent," Lindsey says. The "probably" hangs heavy in the air. A door slams above them again, loudly, and the three of them jolt.

"I'm gonna scoot," Lindsey says, hurrying for the stairs. "Sounds like they're home." She stops halfway up the staircase to look down at them. "Welcome home, Barney. Good to meet you, Gordon."

Barney waves her off and collapses back onto the pull-out bed like a ragdoll.

Gordon gets it now, the whole thing. It hurts him, but not as much as it surely hurts Barney. He sits carefully on the edge of the hideaway bed, facing away from Barney.

"You, uh.... You oughta stay down here," Barney says after a bit, sitting up again. "I gotta go... upstairs."

Gordon nods, slowly. He wants so badly to be there for him, to be able to hold his hand and stand strong beside him, but he also knows...

It's not safe. Barney's trying to protect him from some very real possibilities, and it'll be better, easier for them both if he stays out of sight, out of mind.

<I love you,> Gordon signs, and Barney repeats the hand gesture, presses their knuckles together.

"I'll be right back," Barney says, his drawl taking on an easy, casual tone, like he's not about to walk into a warzone. "There's a, uh, fridge in the room there, get yourself a soda or somethin... I'll be back!"

He plods up the stairs and shuts the door at the top behind him, leaving Gordon to sit and fester and worry. The house is quiet, too much so, and he's so scared. He's not sure if Barney's family would get violent with him--surely not, right? There's no way they would physically hurt him--there's not. Right?

Gordon gnaws his knuckle until it bleeds, then picks at the wound. He can't hear anything, and that's almost more concerning than if there had been screaming, glass shattering...

The door to the top of the stairs creaks open, and Lindsey peeks down at him. Gordon stands, so quickly he feels dizzy, and she waves him over to the stairs, to sit at the top and listen.

"Don't get me wrong," Lindsey whispers, when they creep to the door and peek into the kitchen together. "I love my brother, but... he didn't exactly make this easy on himself."

Gordon glances at her, biting his lip. His knuckle hurts, but it barely registers. There are voices in the other room, quiet but tense, angry. He hears Barney say something that's hard to really hear, and then the yelling begins, as if everyone's been waiting on him for the cue.

It's too much for Gordon to make out any specific words... or rather, he tries not to hear what Ed calls him. It hurts. He could never have imagined this from Barney's family, not when Barney is so sweet and soft and kind. His own family, home in Washington, had to be dissuaded from throwing him a coming out party when he was 19, and that was only because Gordon was too shy. He's trying to put himself in Barney's shoes, his cowboy boots, but the thought of his own family hating him over nothing is painful, worse than his bloodied knuckle or his lip, splitting where he's chewing on it.

Barney storms into the kitchen, slamming cupboards, looking for a glass to get some water. Ed comes in after him, and he's taller than Gordon had anticipated, bigger. More imposing. Not that he'd expected Barney's dad to be small and quiet and meek, but he's scary, this close. Lindsey pulls the door a little more shut, so that just a sliver of light reaches them in the stairwell, and Gordon has to lean over more so they can both see.

"No son of mine," Ed says, as Barney gulps down water, slams the glass down--just shy of hard enough to break it. Gordon flinches hard. "You piece of garbage. How'd I have to hear from my ranch hands that my faggot son is back in town, trying to book a room with a man?"

Barney spits a curse at him, and Ed rushes forward. There are two other men with him. Dan he recognizes, from photos of Lauren. He's tall, almost as tall as Ed, taller than Gordon, with a whipcord build, brown hair, and a bit of scruff where his five o'clock shadow is coming up. His broad, hairy arms show from under the rolled up sleeves of his flannel, and he's wearing boots and jeans. He looks amused, like he's watching a very interesting video play out. The other one must be Chuck. He's shorter than Gordon and balding, and trying to mediate, if only a bit.

"C'mon Barney, just take it back," he says, and Barney shakes his head, gasping, having downed another full glass of water. Ed looms over him, looking murderous. Chuck tries again to talk things back with a "he didn't mean it, Ed--"

"I did," Barney spits. Barbie enters, and Lauren leans against the doorway at the other end of the kitchen, looking bored. "I'm in love with him."

Everything explodes. Barbie starts yelling, as does Dan, and Ed grabs Barney by the front of his collared shirt, roars at him, and punches him in the face. Gordon scrambles forward and Lindsey hauls him back down, hissing at him to stay hidden.

Barney clutches his nose, bloody, already starting to bruise, as his family fights and hollers at him. He looks less like he wants to cry and more like he might go postal, or whatever the cowboy equivalent is. Pony express? Ed regards his hand and wipes it on his shirt, as if he's touched something repulsive, and only hits him again when Barney spits blood on him.

"Calm down, calm down," Chuck's yelling over them all, but not doing anything to stop it. World's least effective mediator. Lindsey's got her face hidden in her hand, holding onto Gordon with the other to keep him quiet, keep him safe, as Barney throws a punch at his father that doesn't land. Dan tackles him, taking him to the clean linoleum, and blood from Barney's busted nose spatters the faux tile. A fresh wave of fear rises up through Gordon as Dan sits on his chest, squeezes his fat face, and spits on him.

"C'mon now," Chuck says, hands in his pockets. Edmond's face is a deep, cherry red as he and Barbie shout at each other, mostly over blood on her clean goddamn floors--and then he storms out of the room, the rest of them following, and it's over.

"I gotta go," Lindsey says, taking a deep breath and hurrying through the kitchen, past Barney on his way back to the basement. He stops, catching sight of Gordon at the top of the stairs, and breaks down.

---

Gordon has to guide him back to the hideaway, where Barney collapses, hanging his head. Blood drips from his nose onto the carpet, but Gordon doesn't care, just hurries to the basement fridge to see if there's an ice pack. He grabs a couple of towels from the bathroom, white and monogrammed, and brings them too. He returns to Barney's side and crouches in front of him, handing him one of the fancy towels with the cursive C on it.

"Thank you," Barney chokes, burying his face in it. "I didn't want you to see that, baby. I'm... I gotta get you a flight home."

<No.> Gordon signs, but when Barney nods, he speaks up, voice desperate. "No. No, Barney--"

"You don't need to be around this, darlin."

"N-neither do you," Gordon says, wincing as Barney lifts his head out of the towel. Doesn't look great!

He should have known, when Barney yelled at him back at Black Mesa for even asking to come with him. He should have smelled something in the water then, realized that his presence would make things worse somehow. And now it has, and Barney's hurt, and his nose looks horribly painful, and all Gordon can do is kiss his shaking hands and push him back onto the bed to try to rest.

The overhead light rattles above them as Ed storms around, still raising hell. Barney sits back up, cursing softly, and his eyes land on Gordon.

He's scared. Gordon can tell, can see it there in his beautiful eyes. Gordon reaches for him and Barney shakes his head, stands, and beckons him to follow, over to the side of the staircase. Gordon hangs back, apprehensive, as Barney pries open a cupboard door, packed half-full of crates, boxes, old Christmas ornaments, and stuffed with cobwebs to boot.

He gets it. Gordon climbs in, past Barney, and slips to the back of the mound of boxes, sitting down in the corner of the cupboard to wait it out. Not a minute later, Ed's heavy footsteps come storming down the stairs, shaking up dust. Gordon holds his breath, or he might start sneezing.

"Where is he," Edmond asks. Gordon can just barely see him, through a crack in the wall. Barney stands over by the pull-out bed, shrugs.

"Don't know what you're talkin about, dad."

"You're not my son," Ed snarls at him. "I know you're hiding that faggot in my house somewhere, and I'll find him."

"We'll leave in the morning," Barney says.

"No, you'll leave when I say leave. Get out here! I know you're here somewhere!"

Another set of footsteps comes down the stairs over Gordon's head, and Dan's back. "You find him?" he asks, as Edmond tears in and out of the bathroom, the other two basement rooms, lifts up the pull-out bed to look underneath it. Barney must be pretty confident in his hiding spot; he just stands back, arms crossed, not saying a word, watching his father and his brother in law tear the room apart, looking for Gordon.

"One night," Ed says finally. "Then I want you out."

"You're bo soft on him," Dan says, wrinkling his nose.

"And you ain't coming to the wedding," Ed warns Barney, stepping closer. Barney just glares up at him, expression unreadable even if Gordon could see it. "I see you anywhere near the church and I'll kill you."

With that, Ed turns on his heel and stomps back up the stairs. Dan remains behind.

"You should come to the wedding," he taunts. "We'll have us a real bash."

Barney doesn't say anything, even as Dan backs him into the wall, hissing some other threat that leaves him shaken. He sinks to the floor after Dan leaves, and Gordon lets a full minute pass before he comes out of the cupboard, cobwebs trailing behind him as he approaches.

"I'm sorry," Barney croaks at him. "Shouldn't have... I'm sorry." He sniffs painfully, lifts his head. "Man, I used to hide in there all the time, when I was... Well, dad never found it then, either."

Gordon cups his cheek and rests his hand there. Barney looks at him, then away, tearing up.

---

So far, Barney's family sucks. No one brings them dinner until it's almost 9 o'clock, and then Lauren comes downstairs with two plates, saran wrapped.

"Hey," she says, setting them on the coffee table. A pause. "Guess they didn't find you," she says to Gordon.

"Hey sis," Barney groans, flat on his back on the pull-out bed. His injured nose has awakened a horrible migraine, and he keeps his eyes closed, fighting it off.

"You're not from around here, huh," she says to Gordon, as she sits on the edge of the hideaway. "Man, that was bold. Ed's gonna kill you if he sees you."

Gordon nods, looking back to Barney. "You still comin to the wedding?" Lauren asks her brother, and he groans, doesn't answer. "Lindsey wants you there."

"S'not an option," Barney says gruffly.

"You gonna let Ed push you around your whole life?" Lauren asks. Barney gives a noncommittal shrug. "You know, Chuck and Danny are up there now, laughing about you."

"You married a piece of shit, I get it," Barney snaps.

"Yeah, well..." She sounds resigned, like it barely affects her. "So Gordon," she says, and he lifts his head. "Barney says you're a scientist."

He nods, too tired to even bother signing. Not like she'd get it, anyway.

"PhD in..?'

"Theoretical physics," Barney speaks up. "Smartest goddamn brainiac at Black Mesa." Gordon flushes, starts to protest, and Barney sits up, takes his hand. Squeezes.

Lauren looks back and forth between the two of them. "You really love him, huh," she asks, and Barney nods, choked up.

"Yeah, uh. Yeah. I do."

She nods and stands, pacing the room. "Lindsey really wants you at the wedding," she says again, biting then examining her manicured thumbnail.

"It's not safe," Barney says, eyes flickering to Gordon as he starts to sign.

<I want to go.>

"No," Barney says firmly.

<I'm not afraid of them.>

"Gordo, you should be."

"If you don't want to go," Lauren starts, and Barney shakes his head, biting his lip. She sighs. "I can ask Chuck to talk to them," she says. As if that'll do anything. As if Chuck had done anything to stop them before. "Think it over, Barney. You're gonna miss her wedding."

She heads back upstairs after that. Shockingly, neither of them feel up to eating, so Gordon just moves both plates to the basement refrigerator and sits back down on the hideaway bed beside Barney.

"I'll, uh... I'll find us a place to stay tomorrow," Barney promises him, laying back down. "Might be a bit of a drive, but... I'm sorry, Gordon, I shouldn't have... I shoulda given you some warning."

<It's okay,> Gordon signs, lying. He's not hurting for himself, but for Barney, who looks so sad and fragile and alone, just inches away from him. He lays down beside him, squeezing his hand, and Barney closes his eyes to try to sleep away his headache.

---

Gordon is mostly asleep when he feels Barney leave the bed. He's aware for just a moment, then dozes off again, stirring when Barney comes back and pets his hair, threading his fingers through it. Gordon leans into the hand as he drifts off again for a few minutes.

When Gordon opens his eyes in the light of pre-dawn, it's to the business end of a shotgun.

It takes him a good minute to recognize it; he'd fallen asleep with his glasses on, but they sit askew on his face, and he's tired to boot. But sure enough, two barrels, staring right back at him.

"Get up," Dan says, and Gordon sucks in a breath as he taps his cheek with the gun. "C'mon." Gordon glances to the side, where Barney had been sleeping beside him to find the bed cold and empty.

He stands, slowly. Gordon's taken weapons training at Black Mesa, he knows how guns work, so unfortunately he has no delusional ideas about knocking the shotgun out of Dan's hands. He just allows himself to be herded, up the stairs, through the kitchen, outside. The eyes of the family photos on the way there seem to glare at him as he passes. Interloper, the smiling faces of the Calhouns say. Queer.

The sun is coming up behind the row of trucks out front of the house, but as they near the rental Gordon can see Barney in the driver's seat. He's crying, more scared than Gordon's ever seen him, as Dan shoves him towards the truck. Ed's standing by the driver's side door with another shotgun, looking very casual as he aims it at his son's head.

"We need our bags," Barney sobs when Dan manhandles Gordon up into the truck, shoving him. "Our--our tickets and stuff, they're in the bags."

Dan sneers at him, but Ed jerks his head back towards the house. "Go get 'em," he says, and Dan stalks off to grab their things, bring them back to the truck.

"It's okay darlin," Barney says to Gordon, and Ed recoils, disgusted. "S'okay, we're gonna go get a hotel."

"Guess we shoulda known it was the faggot brigade, in this truck," Dan laughs as he returns, chuckling their bags carelessly into the back of the truck. "Where'd you get it, Barney, Enterprise Rent-a-Queer?"

If looks could kill, they'd be dead, both of them, but instead Dan and Ed just stand there, still breathing, unaffected by Gordon's glare. "Get out of here," Ed says, "and if you ever come back here like... this again, I'm not going to hold back. You hear me boy?"

Barney nods, putting the truck into gear. "See you at the wedding!" Dan calls after them as Barney quickly reverses down the driveway, spins around, and speeds off into the morning light.

---

Barney checks them into a room at the airport's hotel. He goes alone to get the room keys, leaving Gordon in the truck, and then comes to collect him. He's not crying any longer, but his eyes are still red, his hands still shake when he hands Gordon his keycard.

They enter the hotel room, which looks like just about every other hotel room Gordon's ever been in, and Barney collapses on the bed, pressing his face into the pillow to cry.

Gordon covers him up with a blanket, then goes into the bathroom to shower some of the pollen off. Barney hasn't moved by the time he comes back out, so he begins digging through their bags, looking for something that will fix this.

He digs out Barney's Blackberry, newly cracked and shattered. It's top of the line and all Black Mesa personnel are required to have one. Gordon doesn't really use his, usually leaves it at home in his dorm.

The phone blinks to life in his hand as a text message comes up from Lindsey Calhoun. Gordon pauses, turning to hand the phone to Barney, but he's fast asleep. At least he's getting some much needed rest.

The phone vibrates and lights up again with a preview of the message. I get it if you don't want tobut.....

Gordon swallows and opens up Barney's texts to his sister. He doesn't dare scroll up and snoop that far, but reads her last couple of messages.

LC: mom told me what happened said dad made you leave. I still want you at my wedding.

LC: I get it if you don't want to come, but it's probably the only time you'll ever get to see me in a dress and that's gotta count for something.

LC: Chuck said he'd watch your back if you guys want to come I just really want you there Barney.

The last message comes in as he's reading, and Gordon sighs, putting the phone back into Barney's bag. He stands up, still wrapped in a towel, and climbs onto the bed with Barney, sliding naked under the blanket to hold him.

---

They can't get their flight moved up, which Barney chuffs is "fuckin bullshit, horseshit," but there's little else he can apparently do about it. They spend the morning in the hotel room, napping, until Barney's rested up enough from crying to get up and shower.

He comes out of the bathroom a while later, pulls on a t-shirt and jeans, and asks Gordon what he wants for dinner. They end up at a steakhouse, which seems quintessentially Texan to Gordon, with the stuffed animal heads and cow hides on the walls. They sell a huge, 99 dollar steak that's apparently free if you can finish it in an hour.

Gordon orders a salad, to the amusement of the waitress, and Barney orders a burger, and they sit in silence.

"Lindsey texted me," Barney says after a while, playing with his straw in his Shirley Temple, stirring it around. Gordon lifts his head, watches him as he moves on to the straw wrapper, balling it up into nothing. "Lauren too."

Gordon nods, encouragingly, as their waitress returns with some rolls, placing a basket between them. "Y'all here on business?" she asks, and Barney nods. She glances at him, then sidelong at Gordon, nods, and heads off to help another table.

"They want me at the wedding," Barney says quietly, then takes a breath and exhales hard. "Or Lindsey does, at least."

<I'll go with you.>

"You ain't-- no, you're not goin with me, Gordo." Barney picks up a roll, picks it apart with his hands. "I gotta do this myself."

<Why do you have to do it alone?> Gordon tries, and Barney shakes his head, looking past him at one of the big screen tvs showing a football game.

"I don't want them to hurt you," Barney says softly, then switches to signing. <I love you too much to put yogh... any of that.>

<What did he say to you?> Gordon asks, face pulled in worry. <D A N?>

Barney shakes his head, clasps his hands and rests his forehead on them as if he's praying. <We're not getting into that,> he signs, when he lifts his head again.

<Did he threaten you?>Stupid question. <Or me?>

<Gordon,> Barney signs, his name sign. He stops himself, sighs and leans back in the booth. "I'm starving," he says, as if to change the topic. Gordon kicks his shin, lightly, just enough to remind him that it's not over.

The waitress brings them their food and their check all at once, tells Barney that he can "take care of it" whenever they're done. He nods, forcing a smile onto his face for Gordon.

"You hungry? You should eat," Barney says, as he picks at his fries.

Gordon shrugs and prods at his salad, equally as enthusiastic.

---

It's still light out when they return to the hotel. Barney stretches out on the bed again, arm slung over his busted and bruised face. Gordon sits beside him, flipping mindlessly through his book, not taking in a single word.

"I wanna go," Barney says finally, spoken like it hurts him to say so. "I wanna go see my sister. Even... especially if it's the last time."

Gordon sets his book aside and lays down with him, resting his head on Barney's shoulder, his hand on his chest. Barney wraps his arm around Gordon, exhaling sharply. "You can't come with me," he says. "Not gonna... risk anything."

You're already risking everything, Gordon wants to tell him, but instead he closes his eyes and rests.

They have another two days ahead of them before the morning of the wedding. Barney wakes up in a good mood, tells Gordon to get dolled up, they'll go out and do something.

They drive for over an hour, almost an hour and a half. The upcoming exits start to announce Houston, and Barney takes one of them, chuckling as they pass a church.

"Man, the number of times I've tried to give up being gay for Lent..." His hand leaves the gear stick and finds Gordon's, squeezes. "Not anymore, though."

Gordon squeezes back. He's scared, moreso with how Barney's talking. He's terrified that Barney's going to go to the wedding in a couple days, alone, and get himself killed.

He doesn't realize he's crying until Barney says something. "Baby! Hey, darlin, what's wrong, talk to me," Barney pleads. Gordon shakes his head, as Barney looks rapidly between him and the highway.

<Watch the road,> Gordon signs, wiping his eyes.

"Babydoll, we can turn around right now, go back to the hotel..." Gordon shakes his head hard. Barney licks his lips, merging towards the exit. "Well, whatever you wanna do while we're in town, we'll do it."

Gordon stops crying before they hit downtown, and Barney reaches over to search for his hand again. "Whatever you wanna do," Barney promises him. "For the rest of the trip, okay?"

Gordon nods and signs <pizza.>

>Barney drives him to some hole in the wall place that he promises has the best pizza in Houston, guaranteed, and buys him a slice. They sit outside at the little metal bistro table, eating and recovering.

"There's, uh, the Space Center," Barney offers. "Or Rocket Park--okay," he says, at the pointed look Gordon gives him, "I get it, that's what I want to do. You pick," Barney says.

After they eat, they walk around downtown Houston for a while. There's a distance between them, an uncomfortable wedge that doesn't feel natural, not for them. Barney's looking at a window display when Gordon sees it; another couple of two men, holding hands as they walk down the street. He paws at Barney's shoulder for a second, staring after them in shock. Is that--so it's allowed here?

"It's not polite to stare, darlin," Barney blows into his ear. Gordon jolts. "You wanna hold hands?" he asks, and Gordon nods, slipping his hand into Barney's familiar hold.

That's better.

The other couple's kind of muttering, eyeing them, unsure. "God, Gordo, you made them think we're about to hatecrime them," Barney snickers, then waves at the other men, points at himself and Gordon, and lets his wrist go limp. They laugh and wave back as they continue on.

When he looks back at Gordon, his eyes are wide, excited. "Cmon," Barney laughs, tugging him along by the hand. "I'll buy you a souvenir, whatever you want."

They have a good day. They wander Houston, stop in at a museum and wander through a park, they eat corndogs, and they're headed back to the rental truck when Gordon pulls his hand free to sign to Barney.

<I know what I want,>he signs. Barney nods. <A picture of us.>

"Sure, baby," Barney says, "we can go get a picture."

<At the wedding,> Gordon stresses, face pleading. <I want to go with you.>

Barney pauses. "I just... don't think it's a good idea, darlin," he says, but their good, fun day in Houston seems to have changed something, because he sighs and relents. "But what do I know. Anyone tries shit, I'll knock their teeth out."

<Me too.>

"You even know how to throw a punch, doc?"

<I'll punch you if you don't watch out.>

"Uh huh, sure," Barney says. They're both laughing, grinning at each other like two idiots in love, and the guard's hand slides down Gordon's arm to his hand again, holding on tight.

"Got one last thing I wanna show you," Barney says, as they climb back into the truck, passing a poster for an upcoming Pride parade route. "You wanna see some horses?"

---

Gordon practically vibrates the whole ride there, eyes on the road ahead as if the right exit might pass them by. "You can probably relax," Barney says, "I don't think they're gonna go anywhere."

<They could,> Gordon signs.

"Sure, baby, every horse in Texas is gonna pack up and leave if we don't get there pronto." ` Gordon reaches over and slugs his shoulder. "We're almost there, darlin, just be patient."

Barney takes them off the highway, and eventually off onto a dirt road that seems to go on forever. Gordon barely hears him mention that he "knows a guy who knows this guy, and the first guy owed him a favor." He can see horses silhouetted against the setting sun, and the second the truck's stopped, he's out.

"Jeeeesus, Gordo," Barney laughs, climbing out and running after him. "Hold on just a minute."

<I want to see you ride,> Gordon signs firmly, and Barney coughs, hiding his flushed face behind a hand.

"Now darlin, I haven't ridden in a long time--I wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow if I did that--"

<For my birthday,> Gordon signs, and Barney almost falls for it, until he remembers what month it is.

"Baby, that ain't for months."

The guy who knows a guy who knows Barney comes out to greet them and leads them around. He's got a cowboy hat, and a mustache, and boots nice enough to rival Barney's.

"We won't be long," Barney tells him, and the guy chuckles, says he doesn't mind if they stick around a while, he's just gotta get back to the house to cook dinner at some point.

Gordon follows Barney into the--barn? Stable? The horse house, where the horses live. It stinks of animals, kind of musty. He narrowly avoids stepping in some shit in his sneakers, following Barney to one of the stalls.

"Look at this beauty," Barney breathes, reaching a hand out to the horse. A big, shiny black beast of all muscle, looking back at him with smart eyes. Gordon almost starts begging Barney to ride it for him, just a little bit, but his boyfriend speaks up first. "Would it be okay if I..?"

"Yeah, by all means," the ranch owner says. He helps Barney get the horse all dressed up to ride, saddle and all, and then Barney swings his leg over the side of the great beast with a grunt, settling in.

Gordon stares up at him, eyes wide. In his collared shirt and Levis and boots, Barney looks like a real cowboy--not that he ever didn't, Gordon thinks, but now there's an actual horse under him, stepping towards the exit of the stable. Gordon follows, staying out of the way, and leans against the fence as Barney rides. The ranch owner steps up next to him, leaning an elbow on the rough hewn wood.

"So you're Barney's infamous boyfriend," he says, and Gordon freezes. Is he allowed to be that here? He glances at Barney, who's shouting for him to watch as he canters, and then nods slowly.

"Good to meet you," the ranch owner says. "I'm Tom. James Welk--dunno if you know him, he's my younger brother." Gordon squints. He can kind of see the resemblance to the other Black Mesa guard. "Your boyfriend there wouldn't shut up about how excited he was to show you real horses." Gordon flushes, hands fluttering wordlessly. "Must love you a lot."

Barney whistles, fingers in his mouth, and Gordon shifts his attention as the horse trots closer. "We oughta get your boyfriend on a horse too," Tom says, and Gordon lights up, tries to stammer something out. "Y'all comin' back tomorrow? Josh will be home, we can get you both riding."

"Course," Barney says, as Gordon says "yes," the loudest Barney's ever heard him speak.

Tom tries to wave them off once Barney's back on the ground, but he insists on putting the tack away and brushing the horse himself, even though he's limping.

<You okay?> Gordon signs, as they climb back into the truck. It's just about dark out, and Tom says he's heading home, but to come back in the morning.

"Yeah, my ass hurts like hell," Barney groans. He's grinning though, as they get back on the highway to head to their hotel. His hand seeks out Gordon's thigh in the darkness of the cab and squeezes.

Gordon thinks little of it until they're back in the hotel room, flipping lights on--and Barney is suddenly upon him, kissing his neck, pushing him towards the bed. Gordon laughs as Barney pushes him down, straightening up to undress himself. Gordon's a smart guy. He has a degree that proves it, back at Black Mesa. He can figure out what Barney wants. So he tugs his own shirt off, as Barney yanks his jeans off and climbs on top of him, kissing him again.

"I love you," Barney groans, grabbing onto Gordon's waist and rolling them over. Gordon gets the message, rocks his hips back against Barney's hard cock, drawing a steady stream of praise from him in that beautiful drawl.

"Oh god," Barney chokes, "fuck, I love you so much." Gordon climbs off him for a moment to kick his boxers off, and kisses him again, rubbing his chest. "God, baby, let me put it in," Barney begs, and Gordon shushes him, teasing until Barney starts whining. Gordon finally sits up, reaching back to guide Barney into himself, and Barney groans so low, eyes squeezed shut.

"Gordon," he whimpers, bucking his hips. "Ohh, fuck, you're so good to me, darlin." His hands, resting on Gordon's hips, start to move, one sliding down to grip his thigh, the other to Gordon's tdick to draw a little gasp out of him.

"You like that, baby?" Barney breathes, thrusting up into him until they've got a rhythm going. Gordon nods, eyes half lidded, staring down at him. "Fuck, darlin, I'm--so goddamn hot for you, you're such a good boy, wanna marry you someday, do whatever you want, I'm--aaah, fuck, Gordo!"

Gordon's somewhere far away for a moment, lost in whatever dumb shit Barney babbled at him this time. Heat of the moment and all, you can't blame a guy for getting into it. Barney comes back to earth to find Gordon staring at him, unmoving.

"You want me to eat you out, baby?" he offers, and Gordon considers for a moment before nodding. He climbs off of Barney, who finds himself a little too tired to move, and instead gestures towards his face. "Cmon then, cowboy, hop on."

Gordon crawls forward, and Barney pulls him closer when he hovers his hips over his boyfriend's stubbly face. Gordon squirms and groans as Barney licks him, a flat stripe up to the tip of his tdick, but his mind is otherwise occupied.

Barney said he'd marry him? Like for real?

He forgets it soon enough, lost in the pleasure of riding Barney's face. He comes hard, hanging onto the headboard, and Barney keeps licking him through it, murmuring his approval.

Gordon finally flops off of him, crawling back down to lay beside his boyfriend, and they fall asleep like that, naked and sweaty.

---

"My ass is killin me," Barney announces, when Gordon wakes him the following morning. The latter hands him a cup of coffee from the continental breakfast, which Barney accepts gratefully. "You still wanna go ride--"

<Yes.>

"You sure? Seems like you don't want to," Barney teases. Gordon makes a gesture at him that would be considered rude anywhere.

<Go shower.>

"Hang on, I'm hurtin... Let me drink my coffee first."

Finally, Barney gets up and drags himself off to shower, complaining about his thighs and his back the whole way. Gordon waits until he hears the water turn on to go grab them some muffins, and maybe some more coffee.

They're on the road by eight, which Barney says means they slept in, and back at the ranch before nine. Despite all his complaints, Barney wants to ride again--but not before Tom and his partner Josh have got Gordon situated. They've got him riding some sweet ol' mare, a real gentle girl, Tom assures him, and Gordon looks none too pleased to have been coerced into wearing all the padding of a beginner.

"Baby, if you break your back getting bucked off, I won't be able to show my face in Black Mesa," Barney tells him. "C'mere, I'll help you up."

Gordon is also unhappy about the hardhat, but Barney thinks he's cute, all geared up and ready to ride, like a kid. He signs something to Barney, so rude that Barney doesn't translate, even when Tom asks him. Josh walks him out into the morning light so that he can learn to ride.

Barney's next, back on the beautiful black horse he'd ridden the night before. His thighs really do hurt, his ass and back really are killing him, but it also feels great, being back in the saddle. Especially if... it kinda sucks to think about, but this could be his last visit to Texas. He doesn't have any intention of coming back here, after Lindsey's married. He and Gordon--maybe they'll just run away together someday, go somewhere far away, totally unfamiliar, and start a new life. It's a scary thought, but one that excites him.

He wonders if Gordon would ever agree to that, though.

"Whoa now!" Josh calls, as Gordon's horse rears up. Fear flares up in Barney's chest, and his heart doesn't stop pounding until long after the horse is calmed and Gordon's trotting along in a circle happily.

Fuck, he doesn't want to lose him.

---

They're both sore as fuck by the time Gordon tires out and agrees to head back to the hotel. Barney helps him get off the horse too, and Gordon's legs wobble. He falls ass-first into his boyfriend, who groans as his back hits the dirt. "I'm alright," he wheezes, sitting up slowly. He'll be lucky if he's not walking weird tomorrow, but nothing's broken.

"Y'all gonna be around next weekend?" Tom asks, showing Gordon how to brush his horse--who he's apparently closely bonded with at this point.

<We have a wedding tomorrow,> Gordon signs. Barney swallows as Tom looks over at him to translate.

Somehow he'd... kind of forgotten that this wasn't just their vacation. That there'd been a reason for coming down here. And fuck, somehow it had slipped his mind that Gordon was coming with him. The past few days come flooding back through him, and Barney leans against the wall, suddenly winded.

"We, uh. We got my sister's wedding, then we're headed back Sunday," he says, licking his dry lips."

"You boys'll have to come down some other time then," Josh says. "We usually ride in the Houston Pride parade. Maybe next year."

"Yeah," Barney lies. He may be flaming, but he knows better than to show up to something like that.

---

"Babydoll," Barney starts, when they're driving back towards the hotel. He swallows. "Darlin." Buttering Gordon up. Gordon eyes him suspiciously. "Honey, I don't think--"

<I'm going with you, Barney. It's settled.>

"Y-yeah, I got that, but... maybe we just... shouldn't go. We should..." He gulps again, feels around for a water bottle, and finds nothing. He repeats himself. "We shouldn't go. I'm scared, Gordon."

Gordon unbuckles his seatbelt and scoots closer to kiss his cheek.<I love you, Barney. I'll be right there, and you can hold my hand.>

"That ain't the issue, sweetheart," Barney says, resisting the urge to rest his forehead on the steering wheel. He glances in the rearview mirror. "Buckle up, Gordo, I don't want a ticket out here. We, uh..." He laughs, nervously. "We really don't wanna get pulled over out here, okay?"

Gordon nods, clicking himself back into his seatbelt.

When they get back to the hotel room, Barney paces. He walks nervous, unsteady circles back and forth between the bed and the little dining table, not saying anything as Gordon leaves him to shower. When he comes back out of the bathroom, Barney's seated on the bed, Blackberry in his hand, staring at it.

"You sure I can't leave you here, honey?" he calls, as Gordon crouches to get himself something to wear out of the suitcase. Gordon shakes his head. Barney exhales shakily and flops back on the bed.

"Alright, well... big day tomorrow."

---

Morning rises. Gordon's up first, to shower again and get dressed. Barney staggers into the bathroom while he's shaving, looking unwell, and promptly throws up nothing into the toilet.

"Fuck, Gordo, I'm so goddamn stressed," Barney says, as he lays on the bathroom floor and Gordon steps over him. "Stressed" doesn't seem to cover even half of it, but Gordon nods, crouching to hand Barney a little hotel room solo cup of water.

<The shower might help you feel better,> he suggests, and Barney groans, sitting up to sip water. <Or a bath. You can sit in the tub and I'll wash your back.>

Barney laughs weakly at that, but Gordon wasn't joking.

"Yeah, I'll... I'll get a shower. Just gimme a minute."

Gordon gives him space, since that's what Barney seems to need, and sits at the table, staring at Barney's phone. It's more than half an hour before Barney exits the bathroom in a cloud of steam and begins digging through his bag for his suit.

"Fuck--dammit, I don't know--I swear to god, I packed it. Gordon?"

Gordon points it out to him, hanging just outside the bathroom door, freshly ironed.

"Right. Fuck." Barney sniffs, and grabs the suit to start getting dressed.

Barney's phone pings with a text from LC--who Gordon quickly discovers is Lauren Calhoun this time. How he tells the two apart in his phone is a mystery. All the preview text offers him is image.jpg, so Gordon swipes it open to peek.

It's a picture of the church, all decked out in flowers. Gordon scrolls up to find the last time they spoke--the other day, and before that was three weeks ago, when Barney was planning the trip.

LC: Lindsey's getting married.

LC: She wants you there.

BC: aw shit sis

LC: Talk to her, but I wouldn't come if I were you.

"S'not nice to snoop, Gordo," Barney tells him, kissing his temple as he steals his phone away. Gordon jolts, turning to apologize. Barney looks good; his hair is still wet, and he still looks like he could shake himself to death like a chihuahua, but he's handsome. Gordon is struck, not for the first time, by how lucky he is to have him.

Barney sighs, turns his phone off, and pockets it. "Guess we should get goin," he mumbles, even though it's still early. He seems to be dreading the wedding just as much as he's excited for it.

They head out, back onto the road. Barney pulls off the highway in the direction of the church, starting to white-knuckle grip the wheel.

<Barney?> Gordon signs to him, reaching for him, just as Barney jerks the wheel and slams on the brakes, breathing hard.

"Tank's empty," he laughs, and then pulls off the road into a gas station. "Hold on a minute, okay?" Gordon nods, watching as Barney gasses up the big truck, then heads into the convenience store slash liquor store slash porno shop. He's starting to worry that Barney's snapped and robbed the place when his boyfriend comes back out, clutching a paper bag.

<What is it?> Gordon asks, gesturing to the bag as Barney starts the truck up and pulls out onto the road.

"Whiskey," Barney says.

<That's really nice of you,> Gordon signs, before Barney tears the cap off and takes a long, desperate drag off the bottle. He passes it over to Gordon.

<Do you need me to drive?> Gordon asks, squeezing the bottle between his knees to sign, then fumbling for the discarded cap. <Barney. Pull over.>

"We're almost there," Barney promises, as Gordon lunges for the wheel, pulling them onto the shoulder. "Gordon!" He brakes again, and the truck shudders to a stop on the side of the road.

Gordon grabs him and kisses him, feeling Barney tense immediately. <Barney. I'm going to drive, okay?>

"Shit," Barney hisses, digging the heel of his hand into his eye, as if to push any tears back in. "Yeah, okay. Fuck."

They trade places, Gordon jogging around to the driver's side as Barney scoots across into Gordon's seat. He can't stop Barney from drinking, but he can damn well get them there in one piece, Gordon decides, signalling to get back on the road. The truck lurches back off the shoulder, stalling when Gordon unsuccessfully tries to shift. Barney finally reaches out to shift for him, as he drinks his whiskey.

Gordon is not a good driver, and he struggles with the stick shift as they continue down the road. "Pull off here," Barney says after a while. Gordon raises an eyebrow. The church is within view, but Barney's asking him to park outside the motel instead. "They see this truck, they're gonna know I'm here, Gordo," he says, taking another drink.

Gordon sighs and parks outside the motel. He convinces Barney to leave the rest of the whiskey behind--he smells like alcohol already, no need to make it worse--and the two of them cross the street, duck through the wooded path behind the church, and slip in through the back.

The church is bustling with activity. The priest eyes them as they sneak through to the side hall, but says nothing. Barney leads the way, Gordon hustling along behind him, until Barney finds the bridal suite. There's a cutesy little "bride to be!" sign on the door, with Lindsey's name on it.

Barney knocks, and after a minute, the door cracks open. "Can I help y--Barney," Barbie hisses, "you better get out of here before Ed and the boys get back."

"I just wanna see Lindsey, ma," Barney says.

"Is that Barney?" Lindsey calls, "come on in!"

Barbie purses her lips and stands back to let them in, eyeing Gordon like he's a particularly nasty bug in her drink, and shuts the door behind them.

"What do you think?" Lindsey asks. She's a beautiful bride, all decked out in white, her black hair falling in curls over her shoulders. Lauren looks up from where she's adjusting her veil, over and over again, and shakes her head.

"I told him to get out of here," Barbie says, tapping her foot. "They could be back any second."

"They took Chuck to get him a drink," Lauren says, "they're gonna be a while. Sit down." Gordon wanders over to sit while Barney talks to his sisters.

"Shit, Linds, I'd hug you, but I think I'd fuck up your dress."

"House of God, Barney," Lauren says, and then catches the smell of whiskey on him. "Jeeeeesus Christ, you're drunk."

"No, I'm... I'm good." Barney nods. "We just wanted to drop in, say hi... tell you you look beautiful," he says to Lindsey.

"I really want you to stay," she says. Barbie and Lauren protest immediately.

"NO--"

"Linds, do you seriously want his blood all over your nice dress?" Lauren glances at Barney again, then at Gordon. "Besides, isn't your flight leaving today?" she asks, pointedly.

Barney bites his lip. "Tomorrow," he admits. Lauren scowls at him behind Lindsey's back.

"Then stay. Okay?" Lindsey stands, squeezes Barney's hands, and gives a staggering little twirl in her dress and heels, looking at herself in the mirror.

"Oh Jesus," Barbie snaps, and busies herself re-adjusting the veil that Lauren had so carefully positioned.

Barney wanders back over to Gordon, a little wobbly on his feet. <Are you okay if we stay a bit?> he asks, leaning on his boyfriend.

<Are you okay?> Gordon signs back to him. Barney laughs, nods, shakes his head.

<I don't know.>

"Barney, you're limping!" Lindsey calls after him, taking note.

"Jesus Christ, Barney--" Lauren snaps, closing her eyes.

"Wh--we were just out riding horses, come on..."

"Riding something," Barbara mutters, as a knock comes at the door. A flower girl pushes the door open, pauses at the sight of them, and goes running back the way she came, yelling "boys, boys, boys in the bride room!" "That'd be your cue," Lauren says, fighting with Barbie over who gets to mess with the veil last, and Barney nods, rubbing his face, and heads for the door.

They slip into the crowd. Gordon finds Barney's hand, and the latter is too drunk to blow him off, allows himself to be led to a pew and sat down, on the bride's side. An old woman leans towards them, remarks that Barney has grown into such a handsome young man, and his friend too. Barney nods, too drunk to say anything, and rests his head on Gordon's shoulder.

He jolts awake when the organist starts playing the bridal march. Typical Lindsey, to use the oldest song in the book for her wedding. He turns his head despite himself to watch as the procession begins, bridesmaids and groomsmen stepping down the aisle with precision. He makes eye contact with Dan, too slow to look away in time, and Lauren's husband sneers and points at him. A warning. At the altar, Chuck raises an eyebrow and his eyes fall on Barney, recognition dawning on his face.

Nothing happens during the ceremony, other than Dan and Ed eyeing them coldly, as a cat might regard its prey. Barney glares right back at them, even as Gordon jostles his leg, trying to get him to stop.

This is not going well.

When Lindsey and Chuck are pronounced man and wife and share a kiss, the crowd stands up to applaud and cheer. Gordon hauls Barney to his feet, dragging him along towards the exit. They almost reach the doors, and Gordon's patting his pockets for the keys to the truck when Dan steps in front of them.

"What, you fellas ain't gonna hang out for the reception? Shiiiit, Barney, running out on your own sister's wedding?" He pauses, and his lips curl into a grin as he notices Barney's limp. "Looks like you took it a little too rough last night, huh?"

Gordon starts to sign at him and Dan sneers, looking at him as he licks his lips. "Why don't you try speaking up a bit, queer?"

Gordon thinks he might have to kill Barney's family, starting with this guy. But Lindsey and Chuck are coming towards the door, and people are tossing rice, (bad for the birds, Gordon thinks sadly) and then Ed is there, looming over them.

He's taller than Gordon had realized. It would be funny, how much bigger he is than the rest of his family, Barney included, if he wasn't Edmond Calhoun.

"I see you decided to show up," he says, voice level. Wedding guests filter past them, on their way to the reception. The photographer passes by, snapping photos of everyone.

"Dad," Barney groans, fighting a migraine. He starts to say something to apologize. "I'm sorr--"

"I don't have a son," Ed cuts him off.

"Kinda shocked," Dan says, "all three of your daughters coulda been dolled up. Worn matching dresses, even." Ed's lip quirks in some attempt at a smile. "What do you say we take these two out back and take care of things?"

"My daughter's not going to dance with herself," Ed snaps, smile fading. "We can deal with them after the reception."

Gordon and Barney are herded to the reception hall. It's dark, lit up by glittering candles and fairy lights. Dan shoves Barney unceremoniously into a seat in the corner, far from the exit. "Don't forget what I promised you, faggot," he hisses, and Barney looks like he's going to spit on him, but restrains himself. Gordon sits down to Barney's left and places a calm hand on his shoulder.

"Think we might be screwed, Gordo," Barney says, as a waiter pours them water.

<It's okay.>

"It's not okay," Barney hisses, burying his face in his hands. "Fuck, at least if I was sober--" Gordon pats his back, rubs between his shoulderblades. "God, I can't believe how bad I fucked this up."

Gordon taps his shoulder after a while and passes him a glass of water and the breadbasket. Barney sighs, chugs the water, and picks at a roll. "Goddamn," Barney says again, almost laughing. "Fuck, Gordon, this isn't how I thought this was gonna go." Gordon gazes at him, sad and sympathetic.

"No, I... I'm an idiot, you know. Thought I'd walk in here and say something, didn't even plan what... just thought I'd come up with a speech off the top of my head and change everyone's minds." He sniffs, taking Gordon's water as well, downing it. "Stupid."

<Stop calling the man I love stupid,> Gordon signs at him, and Barney smiles at him sheepishly, flicking a breadcrumb at him.

They sit in silence for a while, as Barney sobers up. <Do you think... he's rounding up a P O S S E?> Gordon asks, and Barney laughs, covering his face.

"And risk anyone else knowing about his faggot son? No, I don't think he's gonna do that." Barney's hand slides off the top of the table and finds Gordon's, squeezing, as if he's in any position to be reassuring someone else. "If it comes down to it... you're faster than me, baby. Don't wait for me."

Gordon bites his lip. Barney's grip on his hand is almost painful. "Please."

<Okay.>

Lauren finds them after a while and sits on Barney's other side, passing him a couple of Advil. "Thanks," Barney murmurs, popping them into his mouth and sucking down water. Lauren nods, looking like she wants to say something to him, but bites her tongue.

"It's been good to see you again, Barney," she says finally, watching her sister dance with their father. "Even if the circumstances are... this."

"Yeah," Barney says, "It's... it's been cool. Seeing you guys."

"I know she doesn't show it, but mom was happy too," Lauren says, eyes tracking back and forth across the reception hall. "I gotta go, if Dan sees me over here..."

"I get it," Barney says, as Lauren takes his hand and squeezes. She ruffles his hair a bit, then she's gone.

No one else comes over to talk to them. Lindsey is preoccupied with her wedding, and it's just Barney and Gordon in the dark corner, holding hands under the table and picking at their food.

It's gonna be a real shitty way to go out, Barney thinks, watching Gordon. Maybe they'll get lucky. Maybe Ed'll forget, or maybe he'll let one of them (Gordon) go. Maybe he'll let both of them go, with a warning to never come back. It's not like he hasn't before, the other times Barney's had to run away. When he was freshly 16, and Ed had beat him bloody, hauled him out to the highway and told him to keep walking, because no son of his was going to live under his roof and be queer. He'd been let off easy then, so maybe this time, too...

Fuck it, Barney decides, halfway through the reception. Ed and Dan are circling around towards them, Ed from the left and Dan from the right. He's a selfish man, Barney Calhoun, and if he's going to die out in the desert tonight, he's gonna say goodbye to Gordon first.

"I love you," He informs his date, and then pulls him into a kiss. The tables around them are mostly vacant, a couple of older folks who don't want to get on the dance floor. So nobody notices but Ed, who picks up the pace to grab Barney by the collar and haul him towards the exit, and Dan, who ushers Gordon after them, steering him with a hand on the small of his back, firm and warning.

"Dad," Barney chokes, once they're outside, behind the reception hall, "let Gordon go."

Ed rounds on him and punches him, square in the nose, and Barney groans as it cracks. He coughs, blood dripping from his face again, and Gordon watches as if it's a slowed down scene from a movie; as Ed beats his son, punching himmercilessly. He doesn't stop even as he straightens up, just kicks Barney in the stomach, over and over. None of Barney's pained sounds reach his ears; all Gordon can hear is his blood rushing in his head.

"Bring the truck around," Ed orders, as Barney lays, groaning, on the pavement.

"Yourtruck?"

"Yeah."

"You know I can't drive that thing," Dan scoffs, and Ed rolls his eyes.

"Fine, I'll get the truck. Watch them."

Ed's gone for a good few minutes, time in which Dan circles around them, sneering and taunting and spitting at Barney. "Don't try shit, Gordon," he warns, as Gordon lifts his head, staring him down. He feels cold.

Gordon doesn't try, he just does. He charges at Dan, kicking him as hard as he can, as many times as he can, where he knows it'll hurt. Dan howls and spits and punches him, then curls in on himself, cursing up a storm. Gordon drops to his knees beside Barney, almost afraid to touch him--but he absolutely has to, or they're going to die in Texas.

Barney's clutching his broken nose, crying hard, but he stands up at Gordon's coaxing, and hobbles along beside him. Dan's still yelling back behind the reception hall, howling like a wounded beast as Gordon approaches the rental truck, opening the passenger door for Barney.

Gordon flinches without registering the sound that just exploded in the street. Barney tenses, and they both stare back at Ed, standing in the street with his shotgun raised, having fired the first round into the air. They only have a second to stay frozen, though; Gordon pats his back, whispering for him to get in, and hurries around to the driver's side door to climb in and start the engine.

Ed fires at them again as they peel out of the parking spot. Gordon ducks, and keeps his head down as he swerves, broken glass raining down around him from the windshield and the back window of the cab.

"Jesus Christ," Barney groans, clutching his face. He's mostly on the floor of the cab of the truck, but at Gordon's urgent gesturing, he climbs into the seat and buckles up.

Gordon starts to slow as they near the gas station. Barney will need some ice for his poor face, he thinks, and starts to turn into the parking lot. He pauses, foot hovering between the gas and the brake. Behind him, in the rearview mirror, he can see them. Three pickups, kicking up dust off the road like something out of an old western. A posse.

Gordon slams his foot back onto the gas pedal and takes them past the gas station, down a side street, through a pathetic attempt at a fence, and into the desert. Barney glances back through the shattered rear window and groans, recognizing the vehicles speeding up behind them.

"Gordon, baby, I love you," he begins. Gordon nods, shifting randomly until he gets into third. The truck lurches forward, eating up the desert beneath them. "Don't crash us," Barney whimpers, resting his throbbing head on the headrest of the front seat.

Gordon drives, foot pressing the pedal as far as it'll go. It's not a nice ride; they jolt and bump and drive over things they shouldn't, and Barney's not getting his deposit back on the rental, that's for damn sure, but the posse behind them is getting further and further behind, both trucks...

Wait, both?

The third truck slams into them on Barney's side, and Gordon feels something like a scream wrenched out of him. He's scared. He hasn't been this scared the whole time, but fuck, now he's there. The rental skids and finally stops, and he looks shaking over at Barney, half conscious in the passenger's seat.

The other two vehicles catch up, and Ed personally pulls Gordon out of the driver's seat, mostly by his ponytail, throwing him into the dirt. He and Dan both have their shotguns out, pointed at him. Boots crunch in the desert behind him, and Gordon catches Chuck's reflection in the busted up mirror, approaching.

"You wanna do it Chuck?" Ed asks. "Your special day and all." Dan's hauling Barney out of the rental, dragging him around by the throat to meet up with them.

"I don't know about this," Chuck admits.

"They ruined your wedding," Dan says pointedly. "You really okay with what they did?"

"Shit," Chuck mutters, looking away, shaky. "I don't know about killing em, Ed."

"I'll do it," Edmond says, with a heavy sigh. "It's my fault anyhow."

They flip a coin to decide who goes first. It comes up tails. Ed levels the shotgun at Barney, eyes cold. There's nothing written on his face, no hint of regret or sadness.

"You got any last words, boy?" Ed asks, as Barney groans, barely able to keep his head up. "Spit it out."

Dan drifts closer, laughing, and Gordon eyes his gun. If he can get ahold of it, at least he'll be armed. Maybe he can even save Barney. Barney, who's not doing so hot, who looks like he might topple over dead unassisted.

"I told your mother," Ed says, starting in on a monologue unprompted. "Told her, either quit smoking while she was pregnant, or you were gonna come out all fucked up. Course, she didn't listen to me. Didn't smoke with Lauren, or Linds either. Just you. Seems like you were the problem child." Barney struggles to lift his head, meet his eyes, but he can't. Ed's gaze hurts.

"Told her again, you can be soft on girls, they'll turn out fine. But boys, you gotta whip it into them, or they end up soft. Queer. Not right. Lettin you play with Lauren's toys--that was a mistake. She wouldn't let me hit you then. Not until you were old enough to know better. By then, you'd earned enough of a beating--"

"Fuck you," Barney groans, "shut up, dad."

Ed shoves the barrel in his face. "And then you went off to college to become some high falutin liberal faggot. We knew you weren't right before that, but god, you just had to come back worse." Barney cries silently, tears streaking through the blood and dirt on his face, mingling into some kind of disgusting cocktail that drips off his chin.

"Why do you think I pushed so hard for you to go into the marines?" Ed asks, as Barney shakes his head, mutters "fuck you, fuck you," under his breath. "I didn't want to have to do this."

Dan grins, stepping closer like a beast sniffing out fresh blood. Chuck looks away, rubbing his face, and paces along the length of the truck.

"We brought you up too goddamn soft, and this is how it turned out," Ed sighs. "Shoulda known better."

"Fuck you!" Barney screams at him, and repeats it, over and over. Ed spits, pumps his shotgun, and takes aim.

The gunshot that rings out over the Texas desert sounds fake. Too close to be real, Gordon thinks, as he stands, spattered with blood. Ed blinks at him, and Dan takes a minute to think about it before he begins screaming, clutching at his mangled leg. Barney turns his head, crying and confused.

Gordon pumps his shotgun, the one he's nabbed from Dan, and points it at Ed in what he hopes is a real threatening gesture. He's calm, he finds. It doesn't feel quite real, more like he's watching--like he said before, a really slow movie. No soundtrack, no special effects, but it's just a tv show, possibly on in the background while he dreams.

"Fuck!" Dan screams, "Chuck, get over here!" Chuck comes running, dropping his shotgun, and Gordon whistles sharply, kicks it over to Barney. Barney stands, shaking and bloody and holding the shotgun, no doubt incapable of doing anything with it right now--but they're two against one. Edmond Calhoun is a smart businessman. He knows when he's outgunned.

Barney backs up to stand next to Gordon as they stare his dad down, and finally Ed spits, shrugs, and gestures to their rental. Gordon shakes his head.

"What's he want," Ed asks, as Gordon signs one handed. Barney watches his boyfriend for a moment, then sputters and laughs, trying not to sob.

"He says give him your keys, you old cocksucker."

Ed sighs and chucks the keys to his truck at them, which Gordon snatches out of the air. They back towards the vehicle, and Barney staggers over to the passenger's side, hauls himself in, and promptly passes out. Gordon climbs in after him, gives Barney's family... his potential future inlaws, maybe, one last glare, and puts the truck into gear to speed away.

Dan's still screaming on the ground, which Gordon thinks is just great.

---

"Gordon..?" Barney blinks his tired eyes open, looking sluggishly at his surroundings. "Where...?"

Gordon kisses his cheek and helps him out of the truck, which he's parked illegally so that Ed will hopefully have to pay for a tow truck as well as a deep clean of the cab, blood stained as it is. Lauren comes towards them, then pauses, reconsidering it when she sees just how bloody they are.

"You made it!" Lindsey cheers, slipping out of her heels and running down the steps to hug Barney. Her gown comes away pink when she lets him go.

"Why are we here?" Barney asks, completely out of it. "Thought we were... did we..?" Gordon helps him along, Lindsey on his other side, telling him aaaaall about the reception as Lauren follows along, carrying her sister's shoes. "Gordon?"

<Picture,> Gordon signs, and Barney nods kind of dumbly, still confused.

"This one's going on the cards," Lindsey informs them, "so everyone look happy, even if you're miserable. Chuck, sweetie, you comin?"

Chuck comes jogging over from his truck to the front of the church, looking away from Barney quickly. Barney sways. He thinks he has a concussion, which is just as well. Maybe he'll be able to forget this whole trip.

"Everyone smile, smile please," the photographer calls, sounding way more stressed than Lindsey is. "3, 2, 1!"

What the fuck, why not, Barney decides, slinging his arm around Gordon's neck to pull him into a kiss.

Six months later, the photo still hangs on their fridge.