6Disclaimer: I do not Doctor Horrible, How I Met Your Mother, or anything else mentioned in this fic.
This is set late season 2/early season 3, and is also, in part, based on a dream I had the other night.
Enjoy!
There are several things in life you don't see coming. It could be as simple as realizing the drink you ordered makes you come off as a gay man, or something a little more adventurous like waking up one morning to find a butterfly tattoo stuck to your ass. Believe me, I've been there. Still, after a while, you learn to accept these things as part of your day to day routine; you've played the game so long, you begin to predict the final score even before teams are assigned. But every so often, life throws you a curveball you don't see coming, no matter how many times you've run home.
"Ted. Ted. Ted. Ted—"
"What?"
"You're ignoring me, Ted. I don't like being ignored."
I rolled my eyes, the base of the left twitching as I spun around to face the man pestering me like a five year old. "Well, Barney, did you ever consider that I might be ignoring you because you haven't stopped following me around for the last three days?"
The blond across from me paused, blinked, then shrugged nonchalantly, creasing the shoulders of his black suit-coat. "It's occurred to me, yes." He stated, and had I not known him for six years I would've expected some kind of further elaboration. But half a dozen years conforms you to a person's ways, so I knew I wouldn't be getting a more-detailed answer. I also knew that if in order to get him to leave me alone (or at least put the idea in his head), I'd have to do most of the talking, and that I wasn'tused to.
"Look," I said, exhaling slowly, "I don't know what made you think I like having a second shadow," A really talkative, insensitive, annoying shadow "but I don't. Besides, you're not even supposed to be here."
It's rare I score one against Barney, being the daredevil playboy that he was, but I swear for a moment, the charismatic man's voice actually left him. He stared at me, almost…I don't want to sound cliché but he almost looked hurt. Almost. More like a shiny-eyed stare, I'm not really sure; like I said, it lasted only a moment. There's only so long Barney's vocal chords can be subdued.
"True." The blond answered with a slightly-not-entirely-what-to-call-it throat clear. "But I realized I had some unfinished business and as my best friend, I wanted you, Ted, to witness it firsthand."
I'm not your best friend, I corrected internally, but aloud, I just sighed. See, things between Barney and I had been kind of weird since his return from Los Angeles a few days ago. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something had changed, and it made being around him a little uncomfortable – er – more uncomfortable than usual. "What is it you want to show me?" I finally asked, frustrated sarcasm tainting my words; I couldn't help it. A scowl crossed my friend's face, his turn to roll his eyes and play the sarcasm card "well gee, mister spoil-sport. If that's going to be your attitude, maybe I won't show you."
Yes, don't show me, that's exactly what I—
"Psyche!" Barney man-squealed, attitude turning on a dime and donning a wide grin, "I wouldn't lead you all the way down here just to have you leave at the best part! This is gonna be legend – wait for it – dary! Now come on! We're almost there!"
"There" ended up being "Barney's apartment," although I didn't know that until I stood outside his building looking up at the impressively designed complex. "This is where you were taking me?" I asked incredulously. He nodded, still wearing that enthusiastic, albeit cocky, smirk. I'd never been to Barney's home before so arriving unexpectedly like this was, well, unexpected. "Wouldn't it have just been easier to tell me instead of acting like an elementary schooler?'"
"And spoil the surprise?" He answered with a scoff, "What kind of man do you take me for?"
I didn't need to answer that question. At this point in our friendship, we both knew what kind of man Barney was.
After an eventful game of "let me into my damn building you pompous, ignorant ass" (to which I –unsurprisingly- had to intercept), and an awkward elevator ride because of said interception, I now found myself standing outside the vault that was my friend's living quarters. "One small step for mankind…" I muttered, taking in the sight and trying really hard not to appear as entranced as I actually was. All I knew of this place came from the details Lily divulged from the two weeks she'd lived with Barney after her own apartment had received an unwelcomed resident in the form of a feral raccoon. As much as I hated to admit it, this was a big moment for me.
"Well?" the blond at my side encouraged, gesturing towards the door, "go ahead, open it."
I made to do so—reached for the door and everything—until something donned on me, and my hand pulled back. "Wait a second, shouldn't it be-"
"No," came the quick reply. "No, it's…It's unlocked. Makes coming and going easier these days, if you know what I mean. "
I didn't, not entirely, so I raised my arm again and this time, followed through.
I don't know what I was expecting upon walking through that door, but what waited on the other side was, for lack of a better phrase, indescribably Barney. Everything from the sleek obsidian floor so glassy you could see your own reflection to the strategic placement of the living room furniture atop what looked like a really expensive pale gray carpet. The perfect, cookie-cutter makes-way-more-money-than-I-thought business man suite.
"So…this is the big surprise, eh?" I said, clasping my hands together – a behavior I'd fallen into whenever disappointment struck. It's not that I didn't appreciate the thought—we'd all been dying to see the inside of Barney's apartment ever since Lily had stayed with him—but given the hype this afternoon I assumed we were heading to some kind of goldmine. "Well, Barney, it's …it's certainly…"
"Pssh, this isn't it." He cut in, giving me a condescending look. "This is what you have to go through to get to it." The other man chuckled, and motioned to me with his hand. "Come with me."
I won't say the tour through his home wasn't impressive; even at my best, I couldn't afford half the memorabilia he owned. "Okay, seriously," I muttered as we wound our way through a string of closet-sized storage rooms, "What do you do for a living?"
As expected, Barney chuckled a second time, the way he usually did when asked about his job. What I didn't expect was the brief follow-up replacing his usual casual "please" that normally accompanied his laugh: "Hehe…you'll see."
"'You'll' – wait – "I sputtered, brow inching up my forehead " 'You'll see?' You never say –"
"You'll see, Ted." The blond interjected, "You just need to be patient."
Now, I'm no psychologist, but as Barney replied, he seemed…he seemed almost detached from the words rolling off his tongue, like he'd pulled a, well, me, and took a step back inside his head. However, Barney wasn't me, which made this sudden change in demeanor kind of odd.
"Uh, Barney?"
"Hm?"
"You were going to show me…?"
Pause. Blink. Throat clear. "Right, career, you're waiting for the…oh, look at that, here we are!" Deciding to temporarily overlook my friend's abrupt skittish response, I let Barney's dramatically outstretched arm guide my eyes into the room just a mere five feet away. From what I could see, we were standing outside the bedroom.
Dark brown darted to meet clear blue and as he urged me inside I couldn't help but wonder if this was going to end with spooning and a hangover the following morning. At least I would have, if things hadn't been so…weird. And, you know, if I wasn't about to burst from exasperated anticipation.
"Well?" the blond asked, that azure gaze intensifying. Once more he gestured to the door, and with a strained sigh, I finally stepped inside.
For the most part, Barney's bedroom had the same neurotic symmetry as the rest of his place, and the long running black and silver color scheme to match. And that theatre-sized High Def TV Lily told me about…but I found it hard to believe this was just some elaborate scheme to have some "guy time." One, I wasn't wearing a suit and two, Barney hadn't once mentioned anything about me not wearing a suit.
"So…" I began instead, deciding to ignore my annoyance and address the only insight I'd received since our arrival. "You do…what for a living, again?"
"Suitcases."
"What?"
He sighed, his face reflecting my inner frustration, "Suitcases, Ted, the suitcases, they're right there, look." Another sharp arm gesture redirected me again and sure enough, several bulky suitcases the same color as the floor lined the wall next to the left nightstand. How I managed to overlook them I could only guess.
"From your California trip?" I asked, after walking over to better examine the bags.
"Yep." Barney replied, though unlike me, remained where he was, "I never got a chance to open them." A slightly nervous laugh trailed off, and he blinked again.
"That's the third time you've done that." I mentioned casually, bending down to unzip the first of the four cases. "You got something in your eye?"
"Huh?" Blink number four. "No, why would – why would you say that?"
"Nothing, it's just…that blinking thing."
"People blink, Ted, it's what they do."
"Hey, there's no need to get defensive, I'm just—"
"Do you want to know what this is all about or not?"
"Yes…" I didn't know why something trivial like blinking would rattle Barney like that, but I was tired of asking questions. He'd been acting strangely all week, and it was time for answers. With an obnoxious ziiiip, I opened the first suitcase the rest of the way, and lifted the lid. "….What the… the hell is this?"
Before I go any further I'd like to clarify there are very few things about Barney that surprise me anymore. Every guise, every pick-up line, every disgusting fantasy conjured in his twisted brain I wrote off as being part of his personality. As I said before, I knew the kind of man he was after spending six years as his friend.
But what I saw in that bag…
My head shot up, incredulous shock tacked to my face. "Barney…" I said slowly, finding my voice after a few seconds of floundering "Why…is there a giant gun in your suitcase?" I wished I hadn't raised my head then. Because when I did, the man whose eyes met mine wasn't Barney. I mean, it was, but the expression he wore was so….dark he seemed like another person.
"It's a Freeze Ray." The blond retorted, voice balancing between insulted and proud.
That…did not answer my question. "A freeze—you mean like Mister Freeze, from Batman?"
His scowl deepened. "Why does everyone always…no, Ted. Notlike "from Batman." My Freeze Ray stops time."
I don't know why he thought that declaration would somehow clear everything up; I was more confused than ever. "This…" I mumbled, gaze trailing back to the obscenely-sized gun. "This is your freeze ray…okay, that makes perfect sense..." Not really. Not at all. I looked back up at my friend. "Why do you own a freeze ray?"
An uncomfortable pause followed before I received a response. "I built it."
"You built it." I echoed, surprise morphing into heavy (and admittedly agitated) disbelief.
"Yes."
"You built a freeze ray."
"Why is that so hard to believe?"
I sat back on my heels, trying to convey as much facial sarcasm without slipping it into my tone. "Because, quite frankly, Barney, it's ridiculous. Even if…even if this freeze ray actually—"
"'Freeze Ray,' Ted; capital letters."
"Even if this Freeze Ray actually worked," I continued, because let's face it; stopping time? This wasn't a comic book, "you don't have the…the skills or whatever" and here I made a hand gesture towards his general being "to put it together."
"Uh, first of all," Barney contradicted coolly, "it does work, and secondly, how do you know? We've already established you haven't any idea what I do for a living."
Then I did something I probably shouldn't have. I laughed. Nothing incredibly rude or obnoxious, but dismissive enough to make me cringe looking back on it later. "What, you're telling me you make weapons for a living now?"
That dark look from earlier returned, and I expected another snippy retaliation. But, as he'd already done several times that day, Barney caught me off-guard; his jaw muscles twitched and he stayed silent.
"Barney?" And now he's upset. "Look, dude, I'm sorry, it's just—"
"…Billy."
This time, I blinked. "Billy?" And went right back to being confused. "That's your answer?"
"No." Barney reiterated, discomfort returning to his features, "Yes. I mean…." A strained sigh passed his lips. "Billy is my…my name, Ted. My real name."
There are only so many "what the hells" I can take before my brain explodes. I'd been slowly climbing that scale since the evening began and now, I was just short of combustion. "You're telling me 'Barney Stinson' isn't your real name?"
"Only the 'Barney' part." Barney – Billy? –the blond man corrected, tripping over his cockiness and bringing the "blink count" up to five. "Last name is still the same."
I could feel my mental hold on the situation slipping, and my jaw right along with it. I'm not usually a man of over-reaction but the Freeze Ray coupled with this revelation…how else was I supposed to take it? "Let me get this straight." I said slowly, finally finding my voice, "you allegedly make a living building guns…and you've got an alias…"
"Pretty much…yeah."
Inhale. Exhale. Stay. Calm. " I gotta be honest, Barney –"
"Billy."
"—Billy; you're making it sound like you're some kind of criminal…" My brow furrowed when he didn't reply. "You're not a criminal, are you?"
A slightly guilty, slightly pained smile.
"Holy crap you are, aren't you?"
It's a known fact among our group that Barn…Billy's committed a variety of heinous acts over the years—supposedly more than the rest of us combined. We'd pass jokes from time to time regarding his behavior and even heard the occasional confession to almost winding up in prison…you think I'd be used to it by now. I've said before I knew the kind of man Barney Stinson was.
I did not, however, know a damn thing about Billy Stinson.
"…great…you're a criminal…" I murmured shakily, rising unsteadily to my feet. "that's…that's just fantastic." At some point, the tugging sensation of my fingers through my hair registered in my mind but it took a back seat to the overwhelming revelation that Billy Stinson was a criminal.
Speaking of Billy, he'd somehow flitted over to my side, hovering around me; concern tacked to his face. "Ted, Ted I-I really think you should sit down – "
"And who the hell are you to tell me what to do." I snapped back, dropping my arm by my side with a thwack. "I don't even know who you are!"
The man I thought was my friend cringed, shying away before holding up his hands in what I'd later realize was act of desperation. At first, I thought he'd half-ass some BS excuse about 'being the same Barney, even though he had a different name' or 'you're still my friend even if I walk on the wrong side of the law' blah. Blah. BLAH. To his credit, Billy Stinson knew Ted Mosby a lot better than Ted Mosby knew Billy Stinson.
"I-I know…" the blond stammered, which, due to my current state of mind, I didn't find odd "…and I…I'm sorry I haven't been totally honest with you, Ted." Ookay…apology: THAT I was starting to notice. "You have to understand I just…I've never done this before—this whole 'confession thing" you know?' Under his breath, Billy swore, strained and starting to wither around the edges. "Gaaah I'm horrible…" Eyes closed, a self-chastising smile tugging at his lips a moment before an alarmingly vulnerable gaze found my own eyes. "I'm horrible, aren't I, Ted?"
A variety of answers surfaced in my mind; 'yes, you snaky bastard,' 'couldn't have said it better' 'close, but not strong enough you lying, law-breaking crook…' I assure you, I came close to firing one, if not all three verbal bullets. But those damn eyes of his picked at my heart until a spring of (partially conflicted) empathy bubbled to the surface, bringing with it an alternative reply. "Hey, now…I don't know if…I don't think horrible is the right word…"
"No, no, trust me," the blond interrupted, "it's the right word." He stopped then, and such a tight silence followed I swear I thought he might cry. Until, of course, his brow creased in thought—deep thought—the light creeping back into his eyes. "In fact….I'd say it's the perfect word." A cryptic little half-smile tugged at the corner of Billy's mouth and he suddenly dashed out of the room.
"Barn—Billy!" I spluttered, thrown or yet another unforeseen loop. "Hey! Wait –wait up!" Fearing he'd like, disappear or something, I darted after him, pivoting abruptly lest I collided with the wall. Several walls, actually; the layout of Billy's apartment was as stiff and rectangular as his…right… not important right now.
Anyway, I didn't have to go far before I found Billy; he'd only returned to the living room and stood now next to his coffee table and was pointing explicitly to the laptop resting atop the wooden surface.
"Ted, take a seat."
This time, only one of my eyebrows rose. "What are you doing?"
"What you are about to see holds every answer to any question you could possibly imagine about myself and my identity." He continued, as if I'd never spoken. Guess some things hadn't changed. Maybe. At this point, who knew.
"Seriously, Billy," I tried again, though I did relent enough to sit back on the sofa, "what is this about?"
The other man, too, sat down next to me, bouncing a little in place and grinning like a madman. "You're aware I keep a blog, correct?"
"Yeah…"
"And you've never once been to said blog, am I right?"
We both knew the answer, but I sighed and played along anyway. "No, Billy, I have not been to your blog."
That crazy smile only grew crazier. "Ted, my friend, you are about to experience the single greatest moment of your life. It's going to be legend –"
"Can we just get this over with?"
Excitement faltered. Even as Billy, he hated being cut off. "Geez, you really are a spoil sport, aren't you..."
There are no words for what I saw that evening. And I don't mean that in a reminiscent or figurative way. I mean I literally had no words; the entire time I was watching my mouth hung gaping open somewhere between my crotch and my toes. For the next hour my vision blurred in a haze of industrial goggles, corporate tools and stark shades of red and white, all of which boiled down to a heart wrenching finale where both hero and villain lost both the girl and something in themselves to the world's ultimate victor: death. By the end of it, neither of us could think of anything to say. Billy had shared with me what was both the wildest and most tragic story of his life, and I…I was trying to wrap my head around just how much sense this incredibly farfetched sing-a-long actually made.
Barney Stinson was a man of free-spirit; a man who lived life day by day who'd never heard of "consequence of action." A man who strived so hard to instill his boycott against marriage and relationships to the point he recorded his voice and sent it to me for emphasis. A man who shied away from the face of commitment and tried so hard to earn that 'best friend' title even though he'd been repeatedly reminded that Marshall was and forever would be best friend Numero Uno.
And Billy Stinson?
Billy Stinson was everything Barney wasn't. Yes, they looked the same, yes, they spoke with similar speech patterns and yes, both could be considered "evil." But Billy Stinson was a dreamer. A romantic. A blinking, mumbling man who watched the same girl from afar for six solid months before a chance encounter on the street sparked their short-lived friendship. A man who had been kicked down so many times by the same kind of corporate-sponsored jackass he would unknowingly become. A man with long-term goals, dreams, desires that he worked so hard to reach…only to feel life's cold, iron slap in the face first hand.
Billy was the man that Barney used to be…and Barney…Barney was the shell that man had left behind.
"So…"
"So…" Billy—and it really was Billy this time—echoed, with the subtlest of voice cracks. I looked at him, but he didn't look back; eyes fixed on the blank screen, as though the final blog entry still played. My gaze drifted to my lap and we fell into another quiet spell before I tried again.
"A PHD in "horribleness," huh? Is that even a word?" I turned my head a second time, and to my relief, an odd little smirked pulled up the corners of his lips.
"Ted," Billy said, understanding I was trying to lighten the mood, "I'm Doctor Horrible. If I want to use the word "horrible" as a verb, it's totally in my right to do so." He laughed a little, followed by another short pause, before I spoke up a second time.
"Were the goggles really necce—"
"Yes, they were."
"Just checking." My turn to trail off. You'd think after sitting through an hour's worse of Billy's memoirs I'd be left with more answers than questions. Not the case; my head was full of "whys" and "hows" and this casual conversation was not satisfying any of that. If I hadn't been that 'nice guy' everyone always said I was, I probably would've gone ahead and verbally vomited on the other man. However, I was that nice guy and part of being a nice guy meant you had to be respectful of your friends' well-being and pain. Barn—Billy (dammit!)—had just finished sharing what was probably the most painful event in his life and yeah, I wanted to know what happened after, how he came to New York and where that little sidekick of his went, but I wasn't going to push him. That's what being a nice guy is; hell, that's what being a friend is.
I waited another minute or so before I broke the silence a final time. "You know…it really means a lot that you came to me with this. That you trusted me enough to tell me your secrets."
He shifted a little in his seat. "It's not really a secret, Ted; it's on the internet."
My expression flattened. "You know what I mean."
Sinking back into the sofa cushions, the attitude he'd scraped together slid away. "Yeah. Yeah I do."
I felt another silence coming on that I really really did not want to succumb to. Yes, I was tired, he was tired, and yes, I swore I'd leave alone the touchy details I still admittedly craved. But this…just couldn't end now; I'd learned so much…there had to be something else I could ask without it getting—
Bingo.
"Hey, uh, Billy?"
He looked up. "Mmh?"
"About the uh, Freeze Ray in your suitcase?"
"You wanna know why I took it to LA." He stated.
I flashed him a sheepish smile. "Kinda, yeah."
"Well…" the man called 'Doctor Horrible' started, scooting back up in his seat, "as you know, I've been part of the Evil League of Evil ever since…that 'thing' happened a few years ago. But," blink number seven, "due to various incidents I'm not proud of following that initiation, the ELE transferred me out to a New York branch back in mid-2000. Hence my aversion to any questions regarding my line of work." He nodded in affirmation as the reasoning donned on me a second before he confirmed it aloud. "However, I'm required to check in every so often to make sure I'm still a dedicated super-villain, and thus, to California I went." He paused in his speech, blinking replaced by a brisk twitch of his left eyelid. "As you can probably tell, that…didn't…go as planned."
Oh I knew. I'd known that for a while. "…yeah. I mean, you're—"
"You see, Ted, the League had an ulterior motive for me; my former nemesis "Captain Hammer," whom you saw emotionally shattered moments ago, had finally resurfaced and as his "arch enemy" it was my job to deal with it. I did it once, who's to say round two fair just as well, huh? Ehehe…" His entire body flinched, as though he were going into shock; it faded a second later, and with a (nervous-sounding) throat clear, Billy unveiled the rest of the story. "As I'd packed my Freeze Ray, as well as several other…devices, I thought dealing with him would be a walk in the park…" He twitched again. "It wasn't, Ted. It wasn't a walk in the park…"
I replied only because he needed me to. And because "twitchy, flighty Barney-Billy" kind of freaked me out. "I know, Billy, I know."
Despite my response, the blond man shook his head, setting me ill at ease further by wringing his hands. "No, you really don't…Captain Hammer had changed…he changed bad. Not super-villain bad like the League but 'You took something from me and now you have to pay for it' bad."
Oh.
Oh crap.
Oh crap, that explained a lot.
"I'm…I'm guessing you didn't just…walk away from that battle, did you?"
"'Battles,' with an 's' and…no, I didn't." His gaze dropped. "Obviously, or I wouldn't have spent the last three days following you like a bloodhound, would I?"
"A bloodhound?"
"…it's not the perfect simile, but you know what I mean." The mood shifted considerably, the air growing thick, suffocating. I knew what was coming next; the one answer I'd been trying to get out of him before Doctor Horrible reared his goggle-geared head. My heart tightened in my chest as Billy Stinson concluded his explanation. "That last battle was the worst…seems Mister "Cheesy on the Outside" had taken a page out of my book…not literally of course, I don't keep a book of my inventions…I mean he showed up decked out in artillery. Like 'The Punisher' if you must compare to comic book heroes." He added.
I frowned. "Really, Billy? You think in this situation I would—"
"Ted."
Dammit. "Okay, fine, I was thinking of 'The Punisher'; would you just—can you tell me what happened next?"
He did. For the next fifteen minutes Billy walked me through his last encounter with Captain Hammer; his shock and unspoken anxiety at the depths of the former ego-centric-self-confident's ruthlessness, how their usual "cat and mouse game" had grown into a deadly duo's dance, and, ultimately, the sickening moment Doctor Horrible felt the barrel other man's weapon pressed against crimson-garbed chest.
"…I didn't actually think he'd kill me." Billy confessed, wearing a bitter, yet…oddly complacent smile. "Obviously, that was a miscalculation."
"Yeah…"
Once again, that ever-hovering silence took over, but this time around, I welcomed it; in desperate need of a breather. As previously stated, there's only so much I can take before my brain explodes. Hands down, this had to be the most exhausting night of my life, and giving the crowd I ran with, that was saying something….
….the crowd….
"What – what about the others?" I piped up after what could have easily been anywhere from ten seconds to five minutes. "Marshall, Lily, Robin? Are you….have you…" Breath, Ted. "…am I the only one you've…uh…?"
"Visited?"
I nodded.
"Yep. You're my best friend, therefore, most important. Also, you're not a complete cynic and don't freak out at the mention of UFOs or" he made a face "'Nessie.'"
I didn't bother correcting the 'best friend' thing; verbally or in thought. It just…wasn't important anymore.
We shared a smirk, a quiet laugh, then Billy rose to his feet; I did the same a second later. "So…what happens now?" I asked him, stuffing my hands in my pockets for lack of anything better to do with them.
Billy stayed silent for a few seconds, his eyes distant in thought. "Now" He replied, in a tone to match the look in those faded blues. "Now it's time to go, I guess…I've said everything I wanted to."
My heart climbed into my throat. Then… "this is goodbye." I finished aloud.
"Yeah," my friend, Billy Stinson, Doctor Horrible, agreed sadly. "This is goodbye, Ted."
He turned his back then, walking with trepidation towards the still-open door to his apartment. I was sure there was symbolism to that somewhere, but all I could focus on was the final walk I'd ever see this man make. The final time I'd see this man at all.
An abrupt surge of desperation struck me then, and I called after him. "Billy, wait!"
He stopped, throwing a glance back over his shoulder. "What?"
I had no idea. My mouth moved of its own accord and my brain was struggling now to catch up to it. Think of something, anything! "Why….why did you….tell me who you were—really were?"
Turning the rest of the way around, the blond shrugged. "Guess I wanted to leave this world the same way I entered it; as Billy Stinson. He flashed me a secretive grin; a nod to a quip he'd made in past conversation. "No one remembered Penny when she died. I didn't want to be the same."
Anything I could've said following that would've ruined the moment, so I shut my mouth off and nodded instead. There are some situations in life where no words are required; this was one of those—
"Hey, do me one last favor, will you?"
Maybe not. "Yeah, sure, what is it?"
Billy's face grew solemn, grim…then came alight with a kilowatt smile. "Make sure you've got your video camera on when you show Marshall my blog."
I laughed. "Now that is going be legendary."
Believe it or not, I kept my word. About a week after the funeral I'd gathered the gang together and showed them everything Billy had shared with me and Marshall's anticipated high-pitched reaction was in fact, legendary; we call it the "Horrible Effect." Says he'll never forgive us for that, but I have faith in the contrary.
As for me, my investigation didn't end the night Billy Stinson left this world. I dug up a lot of interesting finds the time I spent scavenging his apartment. The red lab coat, black rubber gloves and a pair of industrial goggles I'd seen in his blog entries, for example. Also found his old side-kick's number and gave him a call; apparently he goes by 'Howard' now…
Throughout it all, however, I never forgot Billy's last words to me—discounting the whole "Marshall" thing; that confession, desire, for remembrance as the man he was before he lost everything. I like to think I did my best to uphold that final wish, even if it meant concealing some of the darker details from our group. Because that's what you do when you're a friend. You learn the rules, play the game, and if you're lucky, you'll be accepted, trusted, as part of the team.
Rest in peace, Doctor Horrible.