The jet ascended, carrying the mutants away from Boston and back toward New York. As the aircraft lifted, Logan's grip on Verena's hand remained firm. Flying had never sat well with him, and years of experience hadn't changed that.

"Hey, guys? I've got two signals approaching," Storm warned.

Verena and Logan unbuckled, moving toward the radar where two objects had appeared on the screen.

A female voice crackled over the radio, cutting through the cabin with authority.

"Unidentified aircraft, you are ordered to descend to 20,000 feet and return with our escort to Hanscom Air Force Base. You have ten seconds to comply."

"What the hell," Verena muttered, the rest of the team too stunned to respond.

Outside, two fighter jets flanked them, positioning on either side before falling back. The radar's beeping turned rapid and insistent.

"Shit, they're marking us," Storm realized. Her hands tightened on the controls. "They're gonna fire! Hold on!"

The jet lurched violently as she maneuvered, throwing Logan and Verena off balance. They tumbled, landing in a heap before scrambling back to their seats and buckling in.

"Don't do that again," Logan muttered.

Verena shook her head in agreement, bracing herself.

"Don't we have any weapons on this thing?" Logan shouted over the chaos.

Storm's eyes clouded white, and outside, a violent field of tornadoes materialized, forming a barrier between them and the incoming jets. The aircraft shook under the turbulence, twisting as Storm navigated through the stormfront. One of the fighter jets was caught in the winds and sent spiraling out of control.

The turbulence jolted the cabin, and instinctively, Verena reached for Logan's hand, squeezing it tightly as she closed her eyes to steady herself. The winds cleared, but the radar's beeping returned—louder, faster.

Storm's eyes flicked to the screen. Her expression darkened.

"Oh god, there's two of them."

Two missiles, locked onto their position.

Verena exhaled a quiet, "Dio mio," as Jean's expression tightened in concentration.

Her eyes flashed red, and the first missile exploded mid-air. She turned her focus to the second one, but before she could react, it struck the rear of the jet. The impact ripped through the aircraft, tearing open the back and sucking Rogue into the open sky.

Shouts filled the cabin. Rogue's name rang out as the wind howled through the breach.

And then—Kurt vanished.

In an instant, he reappeared mid-air, arms wrapped around Rogue as they both disappeared in a flicker of blue. A heartbeat later, they landed safely inside the jet, Rogue gasping for breath.

The aircraft continued to plummet, altitude dropping rapidly. The mutants braced for impact, gripping whatever they could as the world outside became a blur of motion.

Then—suddenly—it stopped.

The freefall ended in an instant, replaced by a strange, effortless glide. The air stabilized. The damaged section of the jet sealed itself.

It was as if they were floating.

Through the cockpit windows, two figures stood below—Magneto and Mystique, gazing up at the hovering aircraft.

Magneto's voice carried through the radio, smooth and unbothered.

"When will these people ever learn how to fly?"

Magneto was able to land the jet softly, and the X-Men exited, setting up camp in the forest until they could get the jet working again. Night had fallen, and they sat around a campfire Logan had built, the flickering flames casting long shadows across the trees.

Verena was the first to break the silence. "So do you know who he is?"

Magneto exhaled, his expression dark. "His name is Colonel William Stryker, and he invaded your mansion for one purpose—Cerebro, or at least enough of it to build one of his own."

Jean frowned. "That doesn't make sense. Stryker would need the Professor to operate it."

"That is why I believe my old friend is still alive."

A heavy silence settled over the group before realization dawned.

"Oh my God..." Jean muttered.

"What are you all so afraid of?" Logan asked, confused by their reactions.

Magneto turned to him, his gaze grave. "While Cerebro is active, Charles' mind is connected to every living person on the planet. If he were to focus on a single group—let's say, mutants—he could kill us all."

Storm's voice was tight. "How did Stryker even know where Cerebro was?"

Magneto hesitated before sighing in regret. "I told him. I helped build it, remember? Mr. Stryker has very... persuasive methods."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "Who is Stryker anyway?"

"A military scientist who has spent his life trying to 'solve' the mutant problem. If you want a more intimate perspective, why don't you ask Wolverine and Lynx?" Magneto's eyes flicked between Logan and Verena. "Neither of you remember, do you? William Stryker—the only other man I've known who can manipulate adamantium. The metal on both your bones? It carries his signature."

Logan's fists clenched at his sides, a flash of frustration crossing his face. "But the Professor—"

"The Professor trusted you were smart enough to figure it out on your own," Magneto interrupted. "He has more faith in you than I do."

Logan set his jaw, but Verena was the one who spoke, her voice low. "Why do you need us?"

"Mystique has uncovered plans for a base Stryker has been operating out of for decades. We know he's building a second Cerebro, but we don't know where the base is. I believe one of you might."

Verena shook her head. "The Professor already tried."

"Once again," Magneto said smoothly, "you think it's all about you."

A rustling in the bushes made them all turn sharply. Kurt stepped into the firelight, looking sheepish.

"Oh... hello," he said, climbing down from a nearby tree.

Jean's gaze softened as she stood. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop," Kurt said hesitantly.

"It's alright," she reassured him. "Just try to relax."

She placed her fingers at his temples and closed her eyes, searching his memories. The images that surfaced were violent and raw—flashes of pain, containment, and fear. The underground base, cold and sterile, filled with shadows and suffering. The memories were too much. Jean lost her grasp, recoiling slightly.

"The base is at Alkali Lake," she whispered.

Logan stiffened. "That's where the Professor sent us. There's nothing left."

Jean turned to him, a knowing look in her eyes. "There's nothing left on the surface, Logan. The base is underground."

The sound of their footsteps in the woods is the only thing breaking the silence. Logan and Verena walk side by side, Logan smoking a cigar and a cigarette in Verena's fingers, their surroundings tranquil but heavy with unspoken words.

Verena glances at Logan, her eyes flickering with a mix of hesitation and understanding. She takes a breath, trying to put her thoughts into words. "I've been thinking about what happened back there. About how... we can never go back to the way things were." Her voice is quiet, but it's clear she's trying to say something important.

Logan stops, turning to her. His face is hard to read, but there's something in his eyes—something raw, something vulnerable. He knows what she's about to say. He's felt it too.

"You think I don't know that?" Logan's voice is low, gravelly, but his gaze softens. "Doesn't mean I'm ready to walk away, though."

Verena takes a slow step forward, meeting his gaze. "You always say that, Logan. You always say you're not going anywhere, but when it gets hard, when it gets too real, you pull back." Her words are steady, but there's a flicker of something behind her eyes—frustration, maybe, but also longing.

Logan's jaw tightens. He knows she's right, but the thought of staying, of letting someone in after everything... it terrifies him. "I've never been good at sticking around, Verena. You know that. But I'm not running. Not this time."

A pause lingers between them, thick with tension. Verena takes another step toward him, not breaking eye contact. "You can't just show up when it's easy and then vanish when it's not. You want to be the good guy? Good guys stay. They don't bail when things get hard."

Logan's gaze drops for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. Then, his eyes meet hers again, more serious, more intense than before. "I can be the good guy for you, Verena. I'll stay. If you'll have me."

Verena's breath catches in her throat, and for a moment, there's nothing but the sound of the wind in the trees. She steps closer, her voice barely a whisper, "You really think you can be the good guy?"

Without waiting for him to answer, she reaches out, her fingers grazing his hand. He doesn't pull away, doesn't hesitate. And before she can say another word, he closes the distance between them, pulling her into a kiss.

It's not like the others. There's no rush, no desperation. It's a soft, lingering connection that speaks volumes about everything they've been through, everything they still have to figure out. When they pull away, Verena is breathless, her eyes searching his.

"Good guys stick around, Logan," she murmurs, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Logan smiles back, his hand brushing against her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere," he says, and for the first time in a long time, he means it.

Later Logan laid on his sleeping back, his dog tags in his hand, his thumb rubbing over the cool metal. Sleep had been a lost cause for years, but tonight was worse than usual. Too much had happened. Too many questions running circles in his head.

The tent flap rustled, and he barely had time sit-up before Verena stepped inside. She didn't say anything at first, just stood there, watching him.

Then, she moved toward him, slow and deliberate.

"You should get some rest," she murmured, voice softer than usual.

Logan frowned. Something about the way she spoke—low, coaxing—set him on edge.

"Yeah," he muttered, watching her carefully.

Verena lowered herself onto his lap, straddling him. Her hands slid up his arms, over his shoulders, settling behind his neck.

Logan's muscles tensed. She was being a little too forward. Too quiet. Too gentle.

He stared at her, studying her face. There was something about her expression—something that didn't feel quite right. But before he could ask, she leaned in, kissing him slowly, her lips soft and patient, like she was waiting for him to respond.

And he did, leaning into the kiss. Her scent, her warmth—it was all so familiar.

His hands slid down her back, resting on her waist. She shifted on top of him, her hips pressing against his as she kissed him on his jaw and down his neck. Logan groaned softly kissing her back and moving his hands up her shirt. As she rocked slowly on his lap, he ended up biting her neck, moving his hands even further.

And that's when he felt it.

A scar. Right along her abdomen.

One he had put there.

Logan's hands stilled. His entire body went rigid.

Verena didn't have that scar.

He gripped her waist tighter—hard enough to make her pause.

His voice came out low, dangerous. "Nice try."

A wicked smirk curled across her lips before her skin rippled, blue scales shifting into place as she morphed back into herself.

Mystique.

"Oh, Logan," she purred. "You always see right through me."

Her blue scales slithered back along her skin as she morphed into her true form. She still lay on top of Logan, kissing slowly down his neck. "Are you sure you don't want this, Logan?"

"Or maybe you want this," she said smoothly, her body morphing again—this time into Jean.

Logan scowled.

"No?" she mused, shifting into Storm. Then back into Verena.

She tilted her head, watching him with her face, her eyes. "Or maybe... this is what you really want."

A sharp snikt cut through the air.

Logan didn't even have time to react before Mystique was pulled off of him and a three blades were at her throat.

The real Verena stood behind her, one hand tangled in Mystique's hair, the other her claws to her skin.

"Change back," Verena ordered, voice low and lethal.

Mystique smirked, but the claws at her throat didn't move an inch. "My, my. You are the possessive type."

The tent was dead silent, Verena pressing her claws deeper into Mystique's neck.

Then, with a slow, amused sigh, Mystique's form shimmered back into her usual self. "Fine. You win."

She pulled free of Verena's grip and backed toward the tent flap, rolling her shoulders. "But if you ever change your mind, Logan... you know where to find me."

With that, she slipped into the night.

Logan exhaled sharply, rubbing his face. "Vee, I—"

"I know it wasn't you," she cut him off, her claws retracting back into her knuckles, the wounds closing up right away.

Her voice wasn't cold, but it wasn't particularly warm either. Just matter-of-fact.

Logan blinked. "You're not mad?"

"Oh, I am," Verena muttered, sitting down on the sleeping bag to take off her boots. She removed her flannel, leaving her in just a tank top and 

Logan hesitated, waiting for more, but she climbed into the sleeping bag like nothing had happened.

He stared at her for a long moment. "...You're just going to sleep?"

Verena rolled onto her side, facing away from him. "I just chased a shapeshifting freak out of your tent. I'm exhausted."

Logan finally let out a breath, shaking his head. He sat back down, raking a hand through his hair.

The moment he started to relax, she muttered, "Next time, if it's me, you'll know."

Logan's stomach dropped.

Verena had fallen asleep, her soft snores filled the tent. Logan on the other hand, laid wide awake, his anxiety getting the better of him. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

©️Fanofadifishman

Word Count: 2183

A/N: SHE'S BAAAACKKKKKK (Like the sexyy red intro) 

Anyway, I'm back guys. Uni is kicking the shi out of me but it's all good, I dropped one of my classes so I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and that's why I was able to get this chapter out tonight instead of being stuck in class. 

Anyway, I don't want to set an exact schedule because meeting deadlines stresses me out and I already have too many of those for school. So just expect updates in the next couple weeks, I promise I won't abandon this story for months at a time again. 

Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter and dont forget to vote and comment. SOOOOO much drama this chapter lollll.

Are Logan and Verena together now? are they chill? is jean out of the picture? 

We'll both find out next chapter lol, acting like im not author 😛

Anyway,

Love you all, don't be ghost readers,

Allegra 💙