I'm Just Human

Chapter Eight

"Shut up!" Tony shouts, throwing his arms up in anger and rolling his eyes. "I don't have a problem!"

"This isn't a problem?" Rhodey murmurs, voice sympathetic and gentle compared to Tony's heated anger. He picks up the beer that Tony had just finished off, brandishing it at Tony like it'll solve all the problems in the world. "Even Peter's been noticing how off you've been acting, Tony, and it's not okay. You can't drag him into your problems."

Tony works from home and Rhodey's had the day off work. Peter's at school and Steve's working, leaving just the two of them in the house.

"It's not a problem! Peter's only been off because Carol's gone!" Tony argues, snatching the beer bottle back so it's not being pushed in his face.

"I know you lost your parents, Tony, and I know it's hard. It sucks, okay? I know, but you can't take out your problems on the people around you. It's not fair on us. You need to find a better way to cope. Alcohol isn't the way to go."

"I'm not an alcoholic or some shit, Rhodey," the mechanic mutters, rolling his eyes again. "Just fuck off."

"I'm not going to pretend I can't see this happening. Steve's questioning it and Peter's been questioning it, asking why his dad is acting weird. You're angry and you're sad and you're grieving. That's okay. But you need to move on and get yourself together," Rhodey says, voice lifting as though shouting it will get it through Tony's head.

Unsurprisingly, all it does is make Tony angrier.

"I'm not grieving!" he shouts, fist clenching around the neck of the bottle. "I don't care! I hadn't spoken to them in years and they didn't give a shit about me. I don't care that they're dead. I couldn't care less."

"Then why are you drinking like this? It's not because Carol's gone. If it's not because of your parents, what is it?"

"It's nothing! Just leave me alone! I don't need your pity or your help! So, leave me alone!" Tony shoves Rhodey out of the way as he stalks off to the kitchen, depositing the beer bottle in the recycling bin, it clangs against the other ones piled inside the bin. He opens his alcohol cupboard, the one that he's had stocked with scotch and whiskey and wine. Only to find it empty.

"Fucking hell, Rhodey!" he shouts, spinning around with clenched fists and a tight jaw. "I don't have a problem! Where the fuck is my alcohol?"

"You have a problem, Tones, and I'm really worried about you. I'm not telling you where it is," Rhodey says, just as calm and even as ever. "For once, solve this without alcohol."

"I just want a fucking drink!" Tony punches the cupboard door making Rhodey's face harden in anger. "Where the fuck did you hide them?"

"You're acting like your father-"

"Fuck you! I'm acting dead, am I? In case you forgot, he's dead. He's fucking dead. Fuck off," he mutters, hugging the empty bottle against his chest, his hands are trembling.

"You're acting like your father did when you were younger. I remember how angry he was when you told him about Mary. I remember what he did. Do you? Or are you okay with acting like that towards Peter?"

The words hit hard but the alcohol is doing its trick to keep Tony's mouth disconnected from his head.

"Of course, I remember! He- He hit me! He was fucking wasted, and he decked me. Yeah, I remember." Another eye roll.

"You're so angry, Tony. Who's to say you wouldn't do the same thing to Peter? Do you really want Peter to grow up scared of you?"

The words do the opposite that Rhodey wished they would.