Thanos was far from logical, although Bruce could the feeling from his short time meeting him that he arrogantly thought he had the entire galaxy figured out. He knew men like that in his life, just not someone this level of power and cruelty. He might think it was necessity, but there was a part of him that enjoyed it, or so Bruce felt. No one who actually cared and carried the weight of his violence would continue it, unless it was a part of their core. He regretted and grieved over every death on his head, and avoided creating more. Thanos was a monster, and they couldn't beat him. He was too powerful and his certainty was too pure.

He glanced up at the offer and hesitated only a few moments before taking it. "Thanks. I don't usually drink, but I think this is as good a time as any to start." Bruce understood the instinct to drown in sorrows, honestly. It seemed simpler than the feeling that was pressing down on his chest. Survivor's guilt, he intellectually understood, as well as a mountain of worse. He felt bad simply drinking from her bottle, it was clearly hers, so he got up and puttered around the kitchen briefly to get a glass. And since it seemed rude not to share it with her, he brought her back another one. This one hopefully not to break.

"Maybe that's why we're here, part of it at least. The people from my world, they're fighters, they've seen tragedy and survived it. It sounds like you're one too. So the people in charge, they could want the type of people who could struggle past what is thrown at them." The liquor was intense on his tongue, but he swallowed it down in moderation.