NormalLocation: Avengers Compound, Medical Wing to Cafeteria
Time: Morning
Riven sat upright on the edge of the medical bed, hands clasped loosely in his lap. The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air. His body still ached, but it was a dull echo now, not the full-body scream it had been. He was healing.
And he was hungry.
The sensation was strange. Not just the hollow ache in his stomach, but the recognition of it—that he could feel something normal. Something human.
He looked at the door, unsure. He didn't know the rules here. Was he allowed to walk around? Where even was the food?
Just as he began to shift forward, the door hissed open.
Natasha Romanoff stepped in, casual as ever, a mug of coffee in one hand, her sharp eyes scanning him in a single glance.
"You're awake," she said. "Looking less like a corpse today. That's progress."
Riven stared at her for a moment, then muttered, "I'm hungry."
She blinked, then smirked slightly. "Good. Means you're human after all. Come on. Cafeteria's this way."
He rose slowly, joints stiff but obedient. Natasha waited at the door and led him into the corridor. As they walked, Riven took in the sheer scale of the place. Wide steel hallways branched like arteries in a sleek, futuristic structure. Glass walls offered views into labs, training rooms, lounges. He could see a landing bay far in the distance through a skylight. Everything felt... impossibly big. Clean. Controlled.
"This place," he muttered, "feels like a different planet."
Natasha glanced at him. "Compared to what you came from? Yeah. I bet it does."
They rounded a corner, and a soft voice called out.
"Nat?"
Wanda Maximoff was approaching from the opposite hallway, her red jacket draped over one arm. Her gaze shifted to Riven quickly, reading his posture.
"Heading to breakfast?" she asked.
"He's hungry," Natasha replied.
Wanda gave Riven a small nod. "Mind if I come with?"
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded once.
The three of them continued in silence to the cafeteria. Inside, agents moved in quiet rhythms, staff cycled through stations, the clatter of trays and utensils grounding the moment.
Natasha led them to a quieter corner. Riven collected a tray and food without speaking, then sat.
Wanda and Natasha exchanged a glance as they watched him eat. Riven devoured the meal quickly—bread, eggs, protein strips—like someone who hadn't eaten in weeks. His hands shook a little at first, but the hunger was louder than caution.
"You always eat like a wolf?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.
Riven paused only briefly, then muttered, "Didn't have meals like this. Not in a long time."
Wanda leaned her elbows on the table gently. "You're safe now. No one's taking this from you."
Riven didn't answer. He just kept eating, slower now, like the realization was finally catching up to him.
After a few minutes, he looked up at both of them.
"So... who exactly are you people?"
Natasha rested her chin in one hand. "We're the Avengers. Kind of like a global defense team. Some of us have powers. Some of us just hit really hard."
Wanda added, "And the others you saw—the ones in black and yellow—that's the X-Men. They're mutants, born with their abilities. They fight for mutant rights, coexistence."
Riven frowned slightly. "You two aren't mutants?"
Wanda shook her head. "No. My powers came from... different means."
Natasha smirked. "And I've got no powers at all. Just a whole lot of training and very little patience."
He mulled that over. "You trust them?"
Wanda hesitated, then said, "Some of them. Trust isn't easy—for any of us."
Riven didn't ask more. But for once, he listened.
And for the first time in years, Riven Dax sat at a table, not as a prisoner, not as a test subject—but as someone simply trying to exist.