Bruce glanced at his wristwatch, eyes barely managing to stay open. He let out a groan at the sight of the little hand that had slowly managed to crank itself to the third hour. He needed a decent night's sleep; he had a Conceptual Physics midterm in the morning, but he also needed to get this report finished. His vision blurred as he attempted to reorient his focus back onto his current paragraph. God, he was about to zone out at this point. Bruce looked at his watch again and quickly computated the math. He'd go back to his dorm, catch five hours of sleep and wake up at eight with an hour to dedicate on the report, and twenty minutes to do some last-minute studying before the test start. An hour after sleep would be a lot more productive than an hour now without it, he told himself, picking up his things.

The college student bundled himself up against the cold February night before exiting the library building. It wasn't too much of a walk to his dorm, but it was far enough with the icy wind whipping against his face. At least it served to wake him up a little, even if it wasn't pleasant.

He slid his ID through the reader at the front of the dorm building, the device giving an authorized chime before the lock clicked open. Bruce entered quickly, shaking off the chill and clomping his snowy boots on the already soaked door mat before heading for the stairs. The dorm was quiet this late in the evening; he listened to the sound of his own footfalls on every step of the echoey stairwell. It was a climb at times. He and Tony had one of the third floor rooms, overlooking the east half of the campus. Tony always complained about the stairs- rather, he complained about the lack of elevators. "We're at an institute of technology. Why the Hell are the dorms relics of the 1860s?" Bruce smirked to himself. Tony had a way of saying things that made him smirk.

He proceeded down the hall aways to 336, pulling off his gloves to give himself the manual dexterity necessary to unlock the door with his key. No sooner had he entered and unwound the scarf from his neck (which was a wool blend, purple and green, hand knit by his mother), he heard a wretching noise from the joint bathroom. Worry creasing his brow, he rapidly dropped his bookback, yanked off his jacket and boots and hurried for the washroom.

His roommate was huddled over the toilet, visibly shaking from his most recent expulsion. His fingers were white, clutched tight to the porcelain lip; Tony was obviously fighting off another wave of naseua. His complexion was pale and his eyes were trembling in their sockets. The little room smelled acrid. "Br-Bruce. Bruce, thank God you're-" he made a gagging noise but managed not to hurl, "F-f-fuck… I really messed up this time."

So much for getting those five hours of sleep. Bruce's lips pulled tight but he stooped down beside the other student to put a soothing hand on his back. "Relax," he said, rubbing his back, "It's going to be okay. I'm here. Get it out."

Tony's eyes winced shut and he nodded several times. His whole body tensed and he lurched over the bowl again, heaving into it. This was… too common. It was expected college students would experiment and what not, but Tony's drinking had progressed from recreational to addiction awhile back if Bruce was one to guess. "What happened?" he asked patiently, expecting Tony might not be able to answer right away.

"The frat house had a party…" Tony explained, not proudly. He didn't lift his head from the bowl, words somewhat slurred. "They were doing Jägerbombs. I had three… or four…" His forehead wrinkled in concentrated effort. "I don't remember…" he trailed off, repressing another gag.

"Did you know they were going to have alcohol at the party?" Bruce asked.

"It was a frat party," Tony answered with what would've been a scoffing lilt, had he felt well enough. "Of course I knew they were going to have alcohol there."

Bruce sighed. "Then why did you go? You know you have a hard time limiting your consumption."

"Because I got invited, Bruce. I couldn't not go. And once I was there I couldn't not drink-" the electical engineering student leaned over the toilet again, but only ended up hawking a loogie into the murk. "Listen. I know it was stupid, alright? I figured that out about two flushes ago." He reached up for the handle.

"I just don't like seeing you like this…" Bruce said quietly.

Tony locked eyes with him in a brief moment of lucidity before he wound up doubling back over and vomiting before the tank had even managed to refill. "Fuck…" he whimpered, dragging his sleeve across his mouth. "Fuck. Okay. Okay, I think I-I'm done…"

"Then let's get you up," Bruce said, standing. "Can you stand?" he asked, holding out his hands to his roommate. Tony nodded weakly and took the offered help, legs wobbling as he strove for verticality. Bruce quickly flushed the toilet and let his friend lean his weight into him. "We're going to go out to your bunk, okay?" he confirmed and Tony just nodded some more, suprisingly speechless. "Alright." Carefully, step by step, Bruce led him out of the bathroom and to the bed, helping him into it to lie on his side. "Alright?" he asked, pulling the blanket up over him. Tony nodded a third time, clutching to the top edge of the sheet and pulling it to his chin. Bruce went for their minifridge. "Think you could keep down a little water?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I think so…" Tony answered a bit uncertainly. Bruce opened the fridge and took out an Alhambra, twisting the seal on the cap with a light snap. "Bruce…?" Tony spoke up again as his back was turned. "I'm… I'm sorry."

The words were sincere enough; unfortunately, Tony had been genuinely sincere on a number of occasions like this one. The problem was, though his roommate was sorry for being a burden, it didn't alter his behavior that lead to being a burden. Bruce was going to be lucky to get four hours of sleep tonight. He handed the bottle to his friend. "Don't say things you don't mean," he delivered tersely, hoping the sternness in his voice would get the other boy to drop it. He moved to properly hang his coat and scarf.

Tony took a small, tentative sip. "But I do mean it," he argued, "You're always here for me when I do something stupid like this." He nursed the beverage a moment. "I don't know what I'd do without you…"

Bruce sighed again, pausing the pacing he'd begun and running a hand through his hair. Finally he took a seat in the space created by his friend's curled form, letting one of his arms drape over Tony's side affectionately. "You'd do the same for me."

A smirk cracked Tony's face. "A'course I would," he answered winningly. "I'd welcome the opportunity." He stayed that way awhile, with that stupid grin on his face, which led Bruce to think Tony was probably thinking about it now. "What kind of drunk do you think you'd be? I bet you'd be an angry drunk," Tony said, eyelids drooping.

Bruce snorted amusedly. "Why do you think I'd be an angry drunk?"

"Cuz you're always so calm and have your shit together the rest of the time…" Tony mumbled. "You'd hafta be an angry drunk… nothin' else makes sense…" His slurring was becoming more indistinct with drowsiness.

"Had enough for now?" Bruce asked, reaching for the water bottle; he didn't want Tony to spill it on himself. Tony nodded and Bruce took it.

"Dun get up…" Tony insisted just as Bruce shifted his weight to do so. "Stay here… I want'chu to…" another 'stay' was supposed follow that, but it didn't quite make it past Tony's lips as his eyes fully shut. Bruce stayed.

A minute later the soft sounds of snoring overtook Tony's breathing and Bruce reached out to fan his fingers through his friend's hair. "Love you. Idiot," Bruce spoke as he pressed a kiss into Tony's temple. He stood and got ready for bed.