Part 3: The Quiet Between
Location: Avengers HQ, Lounge Area
Time: Late morning, following Riven's visit to Tony's lab
Riven stepped out of the elevator again, this time making his way toward the open lounge area near the main briefing floor. The sun filtered through the wide-panel windows, lighting up the steel and glass interior in clean lines. The Avengers HQ was quieter than usual—too quiet.
He found Natasha Romanoff sitting on a high stool near one of the console panels, a bowl of snacks in front of her, one boot resting on the edge of the counter as she leaned forward watching muted security feeds flicker on-screen.
She glanced sideways before he even sat down. "Back so soon?"
"Missed the snacks," Riven said as he took the seat beside her.
Natasha snorted lightly. "Yeah, right. You look different."
He tilted his head. "Different?"
She studied him closely, then said, "Not in the face. Not in the posture. Just... something. You feel lighter. Not weak—clearer. What happened?"
Riven was silent for a moment, his gaze drifting across the open windows.
"I stayed at the X-Men mansion," he said quietly. "Just for a while. Xavier offered me a place. I met the kids. The ones I tried to get out during the breakout. Some of them remembered me. Some didn't."
Natasha looked over, her usual guarded expression softening slightly.
"And the ones you saved more recently? The Hydra labs."
He nodded. "Met a few of them, too. Got to see them safe. Healing. Laughing, even. I never thought I'd get to see that."
She reached over and took another chip. "That's why you feel different. You're not carrying every dead one anymore. Not the same way."
He didn't answer, but the way his shoulders shifted made it clear she wasn't wrong.
"So," Natasha added after a beat, smirking. "Did you behave yourself at Xavier's school, or do I need to check the news feeds for another crater in upstate New York?"
Riven gave a dry exhale that might've been a laugh. "I behaved. Mostly."
"Mostly. Noted."
They sat there for a while in companionable silence, the kind that came with mutual understanding and the acceptance of things unsaid.