Just a one shot that I thought of last night while I should have been sleeping.

Avengers

Rated: M

Summary: Dr. Bruce Banner was never really found of Rice Krispies, but it was something that he could deal with. Tony's drinking however was a whole other thing. (WARNINGS FOR GORE AND UNBETA'D)

There was that sound.

The advertised SNAP CRACKLE POP that he hated so much.

"Sure you don't want some?"

Bruce looked up from his breakfast of a cream cheese bagel, two slices of orange, and a glass of apple juice. The newspaper, the daily bugle, crinkled in his grip a little, as he clenched it harder. The ink smeared across the worn and calloused skin on his finger tips.

"For the last time Tony, no. I don't want any of your Rice Krispies." His voice came out rather stiffly.

"It's your loss man, these things are great." The slightly shorter man smiled, taking a spoonful into his mouth. "The whiskey makes it even better, but you can have it with milk, if you wanna be boring. I mean...everyone has it with milk...Whiskey is exciting!"

"Do you have to drink so early in the morning?" Bruce asked, frowning as he gripped the paper a little harder, a slight shake running through him.

"I'm still drinking from last night." Tony chuckled.

"That isn't good for you. You drink way too much."

"Hasn't killed me yet."

"What about those around you?"

"What do you mean?" Tony asked, freezing with his spoon halfway to his lips.

"Alcoholism hurts everyone close to you." Bruce stressed out, trying to lower his heart rate before things ended badly. He took a few subtle deep breaths.

"I'm not an alcoholic." Tony said dryly, as if eating whiskey and rice krispies for breakfast was something that everyone did.

"I've never seen you drink anything but, you always seem to have a glass of scotch, or gin, or whiskey..."

"Bruce, even if I was an alcoholic...I'd be a functioning alcoholic. I've given lectures drunk. More than once might I add." Tony smirked, before swallowing his mouthful of whiskey and cereal with a audible gulp.

"And I'm sure the lectures you give sober are even better." He voice softened a little, maybe if he appealed to his ego...

"I wouldn't know. I can't really recall one."

Bruce clenched his jaw. His hands trembled slightly, his paper crumpled almost beyond repair. He could always finish reading the article online if he wanted to.

"I get my best work done when I have a bottle of Scotch in my stomach." Tony continued.

"And your worst?"

"That also gets done drunk." Tony shrugged, not embarrased.

"I'm sure you would do better work sober..."

"Look, my drinking doesn't hurt me, or anyone else! And I'm not an alcoholic!" Tony snapped slamming his fist on the table. The vibrations that it caused, knocked over the good doctors glass of apple juice.

Bruce stood up wordlessly to get some napkins to clean up the mess.

"Shit, Bruce I'm sorry...Here, let me help." Tony stood up.

"Don't bother." Bruce growled up and he closed his eyes as the 'other guy' shifted under his skin. He could feel him ripple with distaste and anger. He could feel his blood pumping through his veins and with a quick glance at his hands, he could see his once blue reds, and red arties where now both a dark, vivid green. He wouldn't be surprised if his eyes where green. The Doctor clenched his fists at his side, and inhaled deeply, held it for a moment, before he exhaled it slowly through his nose. "I got it."

"Woah...calm down Bruce...I know the saying is 'Don't cry over spilt milk', but maybe 'Don't Hulk-out over spilt apple juice.' applies better...'" Tony joked a little.

"Is that you, or the whiskey talking?" Bruce asked through a glare, as he mopped up the yellow liquid before it spilt onto the floor.

"Where the hell is this coming from all of a sudden? You haven't had a problem with me drinking before!" Tony cried out, looking confused. Bruce had been living with him for three months now, and not once had he even batted an eye at his drinking.

Bruce looked in dead in the eye. "I have had a problem with your drinking, I just didn't say anything before.''

"And why? Why does my drinking bother you so damn much that the big guy is fighting to get out?" The multi-billionaire demanded, a deep frown set into his handsome feature. "And who on earth hates rice krispies!"

"Because my dad was a drunk." Bruce said, finally dropping the bomb that had been twisting in his chest for the past three months.

"Your Dad?" Tony seemed to pause, the anger faded and replaced with confusion. "You've...never mentioned him before..."

"My dad, Brian Banner, was a physicist like me. He worked with the government in Los Alamos. From what I understand, he was part of a group, trying to find a clean way of creating and using nuclear energy." Bruce said, no emotion in his voice. He had to detach himself from this, so he didn't lose himself to the hulk. "He, and my grandmother where abused and beaten by my grandfather. He promised that he would never have any kids. He didn't want the 'Monster gene' that he believed that he got from his father to pass on. He didn't want any other Banners in this world."

"But...you're here...so something must have happened."

"He meet my mother, Rebecca." Bruce said, sitting once again at the table. He folded his hands on the counter top. "She was a beautiful woman...I remember she had the most beautiful shade of chestnut hair that was always in loose waves. They meet in college...and got married shortly after. The pressure of his job, lead him into drinking. One day, he was drunk on the job, and he overloaded an experiment. There was an explosion and he got fired...The doctors told him that there was nothing wrong with him, that he wasn't affected by the blast, but he never really believed them."

Tony looked a little uncomfortable.

"So, when he got my mother pregnant, he was positive that I had inherited but the...the 'monster gene' and whatever he got during the explosion. Once I was born, he wanted me to have as little contact with He and mom as possible. He put me in the care of a nurse he knew, Nurse Meachum. She was neglectful, to put it nicely." Bruce paused for a moment. "One Christmas, when I was two or even three years old...I woke up early, and opened one of my gifts before anyone else in the house woke up...It was a model...really complex. I think it was meant for ages thirteen and up. I managed to put it together before mom and dad even woke up. Dad found out, and that was all the proof that he needed to prove I was... 'abnormal.'" Bruce paused to collect himself. "That's when he started to beat me. And my mom, whenever she tried to stop him. It was non stop, and it only got worse when he was drinking."

"Bruce...I...I had no idea..." Tony gaped.

"When I was seven years old, my mom got sick of the abuse. She waited until Dad passed out from drinking...it didn't take too long, he was out cold by eleven am. She packed up what little we had, and put it in the car. She was just buckling me up when Dad woke up. He came storming into the driveway, and grabbed her by her hair... She cried out in pain and her legs gave out. He pushed her down to the concrete and straddled her into place. His fingers were wrapped so tightly around her beautiful chestnut hair and slammed her head against the pavement."

Tony looked sick to his stomach.

"She screamed and fought back, and I kept thinking 'Why isn't someone helping? We live in a suburb, there are houses all around us, why isn't someone stopping this?' It wasn't until this loud crack, Her skull breaking like an egg, that my mom stopped fighting. But Dad didn't stop there. He was 5 feet away from me, but I could still smell the alcohol on his breath. He was panting and heavily, as he lifted my mothers skull up and down into the growing puddle of blood, again and again and again and again, it seemed like he was never going to top. Her bones snapped at first, then, once the back of her head was pretty much gone, they crackled...and then, he managed to break her neck with a pop... By that point, there was an ocean of blood, with bits of skull and brain matter everywhere...all around Mom, and going on the driveway to the drain on the street."

"Snap...crackle...pop...that's why you hate rice krispies..." Tony whispered under his breath, all the colour gone from his face.

"One he was sure that she was dead, he turned to me. He had her blood all over his face and hands and clothes...He stood up and stepped over her body like it was nothing. I was so sure that he was going to kill me...but he didn't. He just grabbed my hair and pulled it, so I was looking in right in the eye. The smell of alcohol washed over me like this thick blanket of poison. He got right up next to my face and said, 'You tell anyone, and I swear I send you to hell myself.' And then he left...He went back inside, had a shower, took the bloodied cloths, and left. I was too scared to move...too scared to leave and get help, too scared to do anything. Eventually help came...I don't remember much after that, but I remember that when the time came for my dad's trial, I was the only real evidence that the police had. Turns out Dad burnt the clothes, or he just ditched them somewhere they were never found, but he covered his tracks well enough that my testimony would be the only way to convict him."

"You...you did, right?"

"I was too afraid of him..." Bruce shook his head. He was staring blindly at the bagel in front of him, half eaten. His voice was the same emotionless tone it had been since the start of his story. He never once faltered and it was sending shivers down Tony Starks spine. How could someone really talk about this and seem so unattached!

"He told me I would go to hell if I told, so I lied to the court." Bruce said. "I told them that Mom was leaving home for no reason that she told me, and that I couldn't see the man who killed my mother. They kept trying to tell me that that wasn't possible, I had her blood on my clothes and hair when the police got there. I was only 5 feet away from here, there was no way I couldn't have seen what had happened. But I refused to testify, and my father got off scott free."

"He's still out there?" Tony gasped, springing to his feet. He took his seat once again, as the mild mannered doctor shook his head.

"No...Shortly after the trial, He was in a bar, drunk out of his mind, and he started bragging about what he had done, and how he got away with it because he had bullied me into silence. He was arrested, and then placed in a mental institution. I haven't seen him since the trial."

Tony lowered his head in silence.

"So, now you know why I don't like it your drinking."

"Bruce..."

"I'm not asking you to stop all together...Just...don't do it so much in front of me." Bruce said, gaining back his normal tone of voice, and soft shy smile, that Tony could see now was all a lie. "The 'Other guy', doesn't like as much as I do...we both know what happens when he doesn't like something."

"Smash..." Tony said dryly.

"Yeah...Smash." Bruce chuckled. "I think I'm gonna head down to my lab for now."

"Yeah...I-I'll be down a little later..."

Bruce nodded, stood up, folded the paper under his arm, and threw out his mostly untouched breakfast, and left the kitchen.

Once he was out of sight, Tony rushed over to the sink and lost whatever food or alcohol he had in his stomach with a choked heave. He heaved and heaved until there was nothing left. He straightened himself, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Turning, he glared at his bowl of whiskey and rice krispies as if it had been the thing to kill Bruces mother. He snatched it up, and threw it violently into the same sink he had just sullied. The ceramic shattered into bits.

With a sigh, he turned on the tap and ran his fingers through his hair.

It wasn't until way after dinner time, that Bruce left the lab, and headed up to the kitchen. Tony hadn't come down to the lab all day. He wondered if maybe he had gone too far. He should have just kept his mouth shut.

He shook his head lightly as he turned the corner, only to stop in his tracks. There was Tony, standing in front of his kitchen skin, a bottle of rum in hand. He was pouring what was inside down the drain. Once it was empty, he tossed it over to a large pile of similarly empty bottles. But that pile, was nowhere near as large as the pile that was on the other side of him. crates and crate of bottles were in piles, each almost to the ceiling.

"Tony, what on earth are you doing?" Bruce asked, shaking his shock off.

"What's it look like? I'm quitting, cold turkey." Tony said, not looking up from his work, as the contents of yet another bottle went down the drain.

"Because of what I said?"

"I don't want to cause you anymore stress."

"You don't want to make the 'other guy' angry." Bruce said, crossing his arms.

"No. I don't want to make my friend, Bruce Banner, uncomfortable in my home."

Bruce was shell shocked for a moment, his arms falling limply to his sides.

"You have a lot of booze."

"I had my collections from my houses in Miami, and california brought over."

"You have a home in California?" Bruce asked, walking over to his side, picking up a bottle of wine from the crate, and uncorking it, before also, pouring it down the drain.

"It's fairly new. Still working out some kinks in the robotics there." Tony shrugged.

"You'll get it." Bruce offered a small smile, the skin around his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. "You are a genius after all."

"A soon to be sober genius." Tony vowed.

"If anyone can quit cold turkey, I'm sure you can." Bruce offered a smile and Tony smiled back.

"Besides," Tony began, "alcohol will kill brain cells...I like my brain cells...they're all brainy, and celly."

Bruce snorted into laughter, blushing a bit that he made such a sound.

The two worked well into the night, pouring every last drop of the poison down the drain. Bruce was sure that a couple fish were dying out the ocean due to alcohol poisoning, but he was glad that it wouldn't be Tony in the near future.

The two poured the last bottle together, Their fingers brushing, causing sparks and shivers in each of the scientists.

"Tony..."

"Bruce...shut up and don't think for once." Tony smiled, before diving in and stealing a kiss.

Bruce smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around the mans waist. As the playboy deepened the kiss, Bruce thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to really look up for him.

And all because of some rice krispies and whiskey.

THE END!

I like how that only took me 7 hours or so to write.

Please Review, I like to know what I did good, and what I did wrong. I can't get any better without feed back!