A/N: THis story is angsty. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNEDDDDD

Anthony Edward Stark lay uncomfortably awake in his bed. He did a mental overview of his day. 'Nothing much', he thought, 'we took Pepper to the airport... spent the day in the lab with Bruce… Oh, yeah. How could I forget about Bruce staying the night?'

Stark tossed and turned, yet he was still uncomfortable. He laid there, awake and alone. His door was open just a tad, and that was probably the reason why he couldn't sleep. (Or was it his insomnia?)

As he got up to close the door, he heard footsteps moving swiftly down the corridor. He tried to get a glimpse, but the something in the hall was gone, and its footsteps led to the dining room.

Tony quietly tiptoed down the hall, making not even the slightest peep. As he made it to the door, he looked in the window. He didn't see much besides two glowing green irises. It was Bruce, and he was hopefully not angry.

The engineer decided to check on him. Tony sauntered into the room, turning on the lights to a dim setting. He sat down directly across from Bruce.

Tony examined the scene. There was a blood covered knife on the table. Bruce's upper arm, more so his wrist, was over a container and was dripping with blood.

Bruce looked Tony in the eye for less than a split second as tears began to form. "I'm… sorry." Bruce mumbled. "Why'd you do that to yourself?" Tony asked. He'd never imagined Bruce to be so emotional before.

"I… I had a nightmare… I didn't want to put you in danger, Tony, so I… I cut myself." Bruce said. Tony was getting mixed feelings of concern, sympathy, anger and sadness. "... Your point?" He asked.

Bruce sighed. "One of the quickest ways to relieve stress is by… that, believe it or not. When you feel stressed, excited or anxious, damaging your body releases endorphins, which make you feel happy. It calms you down…"

Bruce stopped. "I'm sorry, Tony." Stark sighed insufferably. "Stop apologizing." Tony said, feeling peeved. There was an uncomfortable silence. Obviously, something got to Bruce as he grunted. His eyes flared a brighter green than before.

Bruce began to pant. A quiet, if not silent whimper came from him as tears fell from his eyes. "I… I can't endanger you like this, Tony." The engineer still didn't understand. "Do you mind me asking exactly what your drea- nightmare, rather, was about?"

"... My dad… When he…" 'Deep breaths, Banner. Try not to flip your shit.' He thought. Bruce drifted off. Tony walked over. "Bruce, it's oka-" "NO, IT'S NOT!" Bruce snarled. "SINCE WHEN IS MURDERING FUCKING OKAY!? THE THING IS…" Bruce growled, drifting again. "He got away with it for half of a fucking year."

Bruce looked down as his arm began to flicker green. He grabbed the paring knife and was about to slam it an inch deep into his arm. "STOP!" Tony yelled.

Bruce slammed the knife on the table and covered his face with his bloody palms. "It's not okay… I'm not okay….. you're nowhere near safe…" He cried silently. He tried to reach for the knife again when Tony's arms wrapped around him.

"Bruce. You don't need endorphins to make you happy." Tony's hug became warmer. "You have me. That is what friends are for."

After ten minutes or so, Tony let go and Bruce calmed down. "Thank you, Tony." He whispered. "I thought you wouldn't understand what it's like to have your emotions locked away (skiddily dong dong dong dang (just to lighten the moment)) all the time."

"You can't hold everything back forever." Tony said. There was a silence. "Are you ready to rest now?" Tony asked. "... Yeah." Bruce responded.

A/N: funny thing is, I actually wrote this down in a journal. Be aware that Tony's essay is almost done for my other story. Goodnight