Part 3: Shadows at 30,000 Feet
Location: Aboard the Blackbird (X-Men Jet), En route to Xavier's School
Time: Still night, shortly after the battle
The low hum of the Blackbird filled the cabin, broken only by the occasional beep of the instruments. Riven sat on the side bench in the rear compartment, his tactical suit shredded and clinging to him like wet paper. Dried blood crusted across his side, and a fresh wound near his ribs still oozed. His head rested against the cold wall behind him, eyes half-lidded, face expressionless.
Jean Grey knelt beside him, her hands deft but gentle as she cleaned the wound. A medical kit lay open beside her, scattered with gauze, antiseptic, and sterile needles. She didn't speak at first. Her brow furrowed with focused empathy as she worked.
"You shouldn't have held back," Jean finally said, her voice quiet but firm.
Riven exhaled slowly, not looking at her. "He was a kid. Not his fault."
Across the cabin, Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes on the unconscious mutant child strapped to a containment seat. The boy's body still bore signs of the twisted mutation he'd been forced into—skin pallid, veins dark with whatever Hydra had pumped through him.
"He's lucky you didn't kill him," Logan muttered.
Riven didn't answer. He closed his eyes instead, jaw tightening.
Storm sat a few feet away, watching the boy with her usual calm intensity. Her fingers laced together in thought, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her concern.
At the front of the cockpit, Cyclops piloted the jet in silence. But his eyes kept flicking to the rearview monitor, to the image of Jean leaning close to Riven. The tightness in his jaw didn't go unnoticed.
"Almost home," he said over the intercom, voice clipped.
Riven winced as Jean applied another round of antiseptic. "You're lucky your body heals faster than most. But you're still pushing it."
"I can take it," Riven muttered.
Jean looked at him, her tone softening. "That doesn't mean you should."
Riven didn't respond. He just stared forward, toward the unconscious boy strapped in, whose pain mirrored his own more than he cared to admit.
Logan watched the quiet exchange, then glanced at Storm. "We'll need to keep him sedated until Xavier can figure out how deep the damage goes."