Verena and Logan drove towards Las Vegas, hoping to track down their old teammates, John Wraith and Fred Dukes. John was now running a boxing ring, which Fred was apparently staying in. They entered through John's office, where he greeted them, offering Logan a handshake and Verena a hug.

"Long time no see, you two." John grinned at Verena. "Verena, you finally grew up."

She scoffed playfully. "I'm about 100 years too old for you, John."

He smirked. "That's fine, I like my women older."

Logan cleared his throat from behind her, his usual gruff demeanor a little sharper than normal. Verena glanced back at him, raising a brow in amusement. "We need to talk," Logan grumbled.

John stammered. "Y-yeah, sure, take a seat. You guys want a beer?"

They nodded, taking the two leather chairs by his desk. John handed them beers, then tossed a pack of Marlboro Reds to Verena. "In case you ever came back." She caught the pack, pulled a lighter from her jacket pocket—a gold one, with her initials, "VDL," engraved on it, a birthday gift from Logan a few years back. She lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from the two men.

"So," John said, kicking his feet up on the desk and cracking open a beer. "What's this about?"

Verena glanced at Logan, giving him the go-ahead to start. "Victor's hunting the team. He killed my girlfriend. He killed Bradley. And we think he killed Wade."

John looked confused. "If my eyes don't deceive me, I believe Verena's sitting right here and doesn't seem dead."

Verena flushed, her grip tightening around her beer bottle. Logan nearly choked on his drink. "Not Verena—my girlfriend Kayla."

An awkward silence descended over the room. John muttered a soft, "Oh," and Verena took a long drag on her cigarette, the smoke hanging heavy in the air. The weight of Kayla's loss pressed down on her, even if she kept it buried deep.

"You sure it was Victor?" John finally asked.

Verena exhaled smoke. "Yeah."

"Damn. Sorry, guys."

Logan shot up from his seat, pacing over to the window that overlooked the boxing ring. "What the hell happened to him after we left?"

Verena sat back, legs apart, her body language relaxed but her senses alert.

"He got worse." John sighed. "Felt like you abandoned him. Hell, we all did. But Victor... He needed to prove he was better than you. Hunting, killing—whatever he could get his hands on. I quit a few months later. Couldn't stomach rounding 'em up anymore."

Verena's voice sliced through the quiet, sharp and dangerous. "Rounding who up?"

"Leave it alone, Verena," John snapped, more harshly than he'd intended. Verena's eyes narrowed as she stood, her posture stiffening. Logan joined her, his presence instantly making the room feel smaller.

"Rounding who up, John?" Logan asked, his voice dangerously calm.

John stood, heading for the door, but Verena's voice stopped him cold. "Hey, John!"

He turned, reluctant.

"We hunted our own kind," he said, his voice low. "There's a special place in hell for the things we did."

"Mutants?" Logan asked, his tone darkening. "Why?"

John shook his head, clearly worn down. "Stryker said we'd be making a difference—protecting people from the 'bad' ones."

The revelation hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Verena looked troubled, her thoughts racing as Logan's jaw clenched tightly.

"How you gonna take Victor down?" John asked, his tone shifting.

Logan and Verena exchanged glances. "You remember that stuff in Africa?" Logan asked.

"Yeah, what about it?"

Both Logan and Verena raised their fists, the sound of metal scraping as their claws extended from their knuckles. John's eyes widened as Verena also removed her boot, revealing a long metal claw extending from her foot.

"Damn." His voice was filled with astonishment. "What'd they do to you two?"

"Don't ask," Logan muttered.

Another pause lingered before Logan spoke again, more intent this time. "Zero mentioned something about an island. You know anything?"

John shook his head. "No, but maybe Dukes does."

Verena's head snapped toward John. "Fred Dukes?"

"Where is he?"

"He's here."

Both of them stood instantly, adrenaline fueling their movements. "Let's talk to him."

"Whoa, hold up," John warned. "He doesn't get in till 4:00. And listen, he's been struggling with... an eating disorder. We all got our ways of coping. Whatever you do, don't mention his weight."

Logan and Verena exchanged puzzled looks. John led them down to the ring, where Fred was training with one of John's coaches. Verena lit another cigarette, blowing the smoke away as they watched.

"Come on, Fred!" the trainer shouted. "You wanna get in shape, you gotta move!"

John turned to Logan and Verena. "Told him he's gotta move."

The trainer went flying suddenly, crashing into a wall behind them. Verena grimaced as she and Logan sidestepped to avoid him.

"Fred Dukes?" Logan muttered under his breath. "That looks like the creature that ate Fred Dukes."

Verena elbowed him. "Be nice, Logan."

Logan rolled his eyes as they approached the ring. "Hey, Fat—uh, Fred." He caught himself. "Remember that girl when she was 85 pounds, huh?" He pointed at Fred's old tattoo with a cheeky grin.

Fred took a sip from a giant slushy, chuckling darkly. "You're still so funny, Logan. How about you, Vee? Got any jokes?"

Verena shook her head with a breathy laugh. "Nope, just good to see you, Fred." She leaned against the ropes as Logan continued questioning.

"You know where Victor is?"

Fred shrugged. "No idea."

"What about 'the island,' Slim?"

Fred turned away, dismissing Logan. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out. Glad to see you, Verena."

Logan stepped up, his voice deepening with determination. "We're not leaving till you tell us where Victor is. Come on, Bub, for old times' sake."

Fred turned back, slowly narrowing his eyes. "Did you just call me... Blob?"

Logan blinked, then looked to Verena, who shrugged. "No... but—"

Fred charged. Verena squeaked out an "Oh shit!" and ducked as Fred knocked Logan off the side, sending him flying. John teleports out of the way and ends up right next to Logan's fallen body.

"I told you not to mention his weight. Why'd you call him blob?"

Verena burst into a fit of laughter as she approached them. "He didn't call him Blob—he said Bub!" She giggled so hard it brought tears to her eyes.

Logan stood up, glaring daggers at her. She smiled sweetly, though her amusement was clear. John interrupted their bickering, "Hey, I got an idea—get in the ring."

Both Verena and Logan turned to John, incredulous. "What?"

"Logan get the hell in the ring."

Logan sighs in defeat and steps into the ring, throwing his jacket and flannel off to Verena. John hands him boxing gloves and him and Verena step back. Logan looks concerned, "This is your idea of an idea?"

"Tryna help you out Logan, Dukes don't like you that much and you know it."

"Feelings mutual" Logan quips as he pulls on the boxing gloves. 

"Use them gloves man, dance with him a little bit, allow him to let his anger out on you. Figure if you do that, he'll probably tell you everything you want to know."

"Come on man look at him, big old ass comin out of that shirt. Jesus he's gonna have a coronary for Christ's sake. Is there even a stretcher big enough to take him out of here." 

The bell dings and Fred immediately goes for Logan, throwing a punch right to his face. Verena and John step back, and watch the fight from further back, neither wanting to get hit. "It's okay Logan, you got this." She gives him an exaggerated smile and thumbs up and he looks at her with a lopsided smile. Then Fred punches him again. 

Verena lets out a laugh and John turns to her, "$100 that Fred knocks Logan out."

 She lets out a scoff at the statement, "You're fucking on." 

They both shout towards their prospective bets, "Come on Fred move your ass." "Whoop his ass, Logan"

After a while of punches being thrown John and Verena calm their shouts and just watch. Verena takes in Logans appearance. Dirty white beater tank top, his bootcut jeans, sweat causing his skin to glisten under the florescent lights. His hair bounced as he moved swiftly, only to get pounded in the face by Fred. John lets out of a laugh and Logan glares, "Are you on my side or what," He growls as he stands back up.

Verena is stuck in a trance as she watches the way Logan moves, "Hey Verena, you gotta little drool." John says pointing to his mouth in reference to her. She breaks out of her trance and rolls her eyes. 

"Yeah, whatever."

Fred knocks Logan down with another punch. He picks him up and going to head butt him. A metallic ding rings out when their heads collide and Fred takes a step back, almost in a state of confusion and he stumbles back. Logan runs towards the ropes and jumps off, catching air almost animal like, and hits Fred in the head with his elbow. Fred falls in defeat and Logan stands over him, his claws ripping through the gloves, "Now where's Victor."

Verena smirks and holds her hand out to John, who angrily puts a couple of rolled up 20 bills into her hands. She takes the money and stuffs it into her bra for safe keeping later. Logan tries to get Fred conscious again by slapping his face a couple times. Verena and John both walk over to the ring, Verena climbing under and standing behind Logan. "Hey. Hey! Where's Victor?"

"Victor... he's w--with Stryker on the Island, They-they-They run it together."

"What? Victor will be with Stryker?"

Verena runs a hand down her face in frustration, "Merda!"

"You-you guys didn't know that?"

Logan gets up from his spot in front of Fred and walks around the ring for a minute. His breaths come out shallow, like he's trying to get a grasp for air. "What's the Island," He spits out through heavy breathes.

"Mm, it's where S-Stryker takes them after Victor's caught 'em."

Verena's brows furrow, and suddenly her brain is working, "Takes who, Fred?"

"Mutants. The rumor is Stryker's doin experiments on them there." He turns to John, "I mean you never wondered what happened to them?"

"I try not to." John says, looking down somberly.

Logan looks at them with fury tainting his eyes, his breathing heavy and his chest heaving. Verena looks shocked at the new information. Then Logan comes to a realization. "They killed her so I'd let them put adamantium in us."

Verena tilts her head back, tears threatening to spill from her eyes and she stares at the ceiling. All this for nothing, all this just for Stryker and Victor to be working together, "They killed her for a goddamn experiment." 

In Logans fury he rushes past Verena and towards Fred, holding his fist up to him, "Where is it? Where is it?"

"Hey, Stryker kept it a real secret."

Logan extends his claws at Fred's words and Verena rushes behind Logan, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and letting out a warning, "Lo, watch it."

In his fear, Fred replies, "But... uh, a prisoner escaped once."

"Who," Logan asks, claws still extended towards Fred's face

"His name was Remy LeBeau. He was a-a street hustler from New Orleans. The-The guards at the prison called him Gambit 'cause he kept taking all their money at poker. That's all I know."

John finally speaks up, "What's Stryker up to, Fred?"

"He's taking their powers, tryna combine them somehow. That's all I know Logan. Vee tell him that's all I know."

Her grip is harder on his shoulder, "Lo, that's enough"

"If I have to come back here, I'm gonna take your head off." He rises from his spot, retracting his claws, and letting Verena's hand fall from his shoulder, lacing it with his own hand. They power walk as they step out of the ring, both of them reaching for their leather jackets which lay on the bench.

"I'm coming with you guys," John calls out after them, teleporting next to them.

"There's no redemption where we're going."

"Andremo all'inferno." Verena says

They make their way outside and get on their retrospective motorcycles, Verena getting onto Logans, "Hold on tight, Vee." And he zooms out of the parking lot, John following on his tail. The two of them raced down the highway, Verena's hair whipping wildly in the wind. 

They make it to New Orleans by dark, driving carefully down the busy streets, pedestrians wandering around them. John leads them into a bar, the glow of a red light beating down on them as they enter. They walk around looking at each gambling table, till they stop short of one at the end, seeing a man doing card tricks, his back towards them. "There's our guy," John tells them spotting Remy. "I'm gonna go cover the back incase he rabbits."

The pair give John a sour look and Logan breathes out, "We're not gonna fight with him."

"Yeah, right."

Verena scoffs, "What, you get in fights with everybody, John?"

"Don't dogs kill cats?"

Logan pushes him away, "Just go cover the back will ya."

Logan takes Verena's hand in his as John walks away. She glances down at their entwined fingers, feeling the warmth of his touch. A small smile plays at her lips, though there's a flicker of something softer in her eyes—something she keeps tucked away. She doesn't pull away. Instead, she squeezes his hand gently, their connection almost tangible in that brief moment. Logan tugs her closer as they approach the table where Remy LeBeau sits, casually engrossed in a game of poker, a hat pulled low over his face.

"Are you Remy LeBeau?" Logan's voice breaks the air between them.

Without looking up, Remy responds, "Do I owe you money?"

"No."

Remy finally raises his head, a slow, lazy smile spreading across his lips. "Then Remy LeBeau I am." He tips his hat slightly and gestures to the empty seats across from him. "Large blind's 100, small blind's 50. For your lady, though..." His eyes flicker to Verena, dark and roguish. "I'll make it 40." His smirk deepens as he eyes her with a clear interest.

Verena, reading the moment, arches a brow, returning his grin with a flirtatious one of her own. Her smile is sharp but playful, the kind that keeps men like Remy on their toes. She leans in slightly, letting her gaze linger just enough to keep him intrigued. Logan, however, shifts beside her, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly—though Verena notices.

"Can I deal y'all in?" Remy asks, still holding her gaze longer than necessary.

Logan digs into his pocket, his movements stiff, and pulls out his cash. "What can I get for 17 bucks?" There's a dry edge to his tone, irritation threading through his voice.

Remy lets out an exaggerated sigh. "17 dollars? A cab ride home, perhaps." He laughs, and Logan's smile tightens, not quite reaching his eyes.

Verena catches the tension, her hand slipping on top of Logan's. "It's okay, Logan. I got it," she purrs, her accent curling thicker, playing up her Italian heritage in a way she knows can charm almost anyone. With a sly smile, she reaches into her top, pulling out a roll of money tucked into her bra, and slaps 100 down on the table. "For him and for me."

Remy's eyes spark with interest, and he chuckles warmly. "I like you, chère," he says, his grin widening as he deals the cards. His attention, though momentarily distracted by Logan, keeps slipping back to Verena. "What brings you and your..." His gaze lingers on her again, slowly trailing from her face down to her legs. "...fine lady, here to our beautiful city?"

Logan's eyes narrow just slightly, an unreadable emotion flickering beneath his gruff exterior. "Victor Creed," he states, cutting through the banter with all the subtlety of a blade.

Remy's hand freezes for the briefest moment before he resumes dealing the cards. He hands Verena hers with a wink, which she returns with a smile, though this time it feels more calculated, like a chess move. "And who's that?"

Logan's voice drops a little lower, more dangerous. "The man we're gonna kill. Works with a man named Stryker on an island. Just need to know where it is."

Remy's brows raise in faux innocence. "And why would you think I know that?"

Logan leans forward slightly. "Because we know who you are... Gambit."

The shift in the air is palpable. Remy's casual demeanor fades as he slowly reclines back in his chair, assessing them both with a new sharpness. "You're the guy who escaped," Logan continues, his voice a growl. "And you're the guy who's gonna take us back there."

Remy chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Those are mighty nice tags you have on there, sir... ma'am." His gaze flickers down to the dog tags resting on their chests. Both Verena and Logan glance down at their own before looking back up. Remy twirls a card between his fingers, his eyes glowing with a dangerous red light. "The man who took me wore tags just like 'em."

Verena tenses as the card in Remy's hand begins to glow, her sharp instincts kicking in. Logan moves forward protectively, sensing the imminent attack. "Hey, now, bub, you listen to me—"

But Remy's card flies through the air, knocking them both backwards. Verena lets out a sharp gasp as her back slams into the hardwood floor, pain flaring through her body. Logan groans beside her. Remy stands smoothly, more cards spreading between his fingers like a deadly fan. He throws them with a flick of his wrist, sending them like bullets toward Logan and Verena, the force knocking them through the brick wall and into the alley.

Logan tumbles backward, his body hitting the pavement hard. Verena, with a grunt of pain, rolls onto her stomach, breathing heavily. "Damn it. Reena, you okay?" Logan's voice is strained with concern.

She winces, pushing herself up with effort. "Testa di cazzo!" she spits out in frustration, glaring in the direction of the hole they were just thrown through. She presses a hand to her aching ribs but manages a smirk despite the pain. "Why do I always attract the crazy ones?"

Logan's mouth pulls into a grim smile. "You tell me." At the end of the alley, a shadowy figure stands over John's lifeless body, the familiar bulk of a dark coat framing the menacing presence of Victor Creed. The sight sends a chill down Verena's spine, her breath catching as she instinctively steps closer to Logan.

Remy leaps from the hole in the wall, landing behind them with a thud. "Two years I rotted in that hellhole, and I ain't never going back," he snarls, his voice dripping with defiance.

Before he can do more, Verena's elbow swings back, connecting sharply with his face. The impact sends him reeling, his body collapsing to the ground in a temporary daze. Logan barely spares Remy a glance, his focus locked on Victor as both he and Verena raise their fists, claws extending with a sharp snikt.

Victor's lips curl into a mocking grin. "Ooh, shiny," he sneers, eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. "Tell me something, guys, you even know how to kill me?"

Logan's response is a low, menacing growl. "We're gonna chop your goddamn head off. See if that works."

The tension snaps as they charge at each other, Victor lunging forward on all fours with a feral roar. Logan and Verena move in unison, sliding beneath Victor's leap. Logan's claws slice through the air, catching Victor's side with a brutal cut. Verena holds back for a moment, watching Logan shove his claws into Victor's hand with calculated fury, pinning him against the side of a truck.

"You're gonna pay for what you did to her," Logan growls, the rage in his voice barely contained as he drives his claws deeper into Victor's shoulder. His other hand rises, ready to strike, but before he can deliver the final blow, Verena's sharp senses pick up a new threat.

"Logan, get down!" Verena shouts, her voice urgent as she spots Remy LeBeau dropping from the rooftop, cane twirling in his hand. The ground shudders as Remy slams his staff into the pavement, the force of the impact sending them all flying backward. The alley erupts in chaos—windows shatter, the ground cracks, and for a moment, everything is a blur.

Victor is the first to recover, bolting at the sight of Remy with surprising speed. Logan, undeterred, starts to pursue him, but Remy intercepts, swinging his cane and landing a solid blow to Logan's face.

Verena whimpers, a sound of pain and frustration as shards of glass push out from her healing skin. As her wounds knit together, she forces herself to her feet, determined to help Logan. Her eyes narrow as Remy twirls his staff with a smirk, pausing just long enough for Logan to comment, "That's a nice stick," before extending a single claw.

Remy makes a move to strike, but Logan's claw slices through the staff, splitting it cleanly in two. The fight resumes, Logan's speed and precision outmatching Remy's attempts to fend him off with the broken pieces.

As Remy tries to retreat, Logan hits the ground hard, but Verena is already moving. She sprints toward the fire escape, claws out, and with a few swift strikes, she weakens the ladder's supports. The platform groans under the strain before crashing down, sending Remy plummeting to the ground.

Logan seizes the moment, grabbing Remy by the scruff and slamming him against the wall. Verena stands behind, arms crossed, her expression cold and resolute. "Alright, listen, shithead," Logan growls, his voice filled with barely restrained fury. "You're gonna take us to this island where we can kill Creed, Stryker, and pretty much everyone you hate in this world. Do you understand?"

Remy's eyes flicker with doubt as he gasps out, "You're really gonna kill him?"

Verena steps forward, her voice icy. "As long as you stay out of our way, yeah."

Logan releases his grip, and Remy stumbles before reluctantly leading them to an old plane yard. They weave through rows of rusted aircraft until they reach a small, battered plane near the end. "Well, hop on in," Remy says with a smirk, though there's a hint of reluctance in his tone.

Verena surveys the plane skeptically before climbing in. Logan, however, hesitates, his face paling slightly as he stares at the aircraft. Verena settles between the two men, her gaze fixed on Logan's every movement. His hand grips the handle next to the door, knuckles white with tension.

"You really don't like flying, do you?" Remy teases as he takes the pilot's seat.

Logan's reply is curt, his voice tight. "I'm fine. Just concentrate on what you're doing."

Remy chuckles, clearly enjoying Logan's discomfort. "You sure? You got a bit of sweat on your brow there."

"Very funny. Just keep your eyes on the—"

"On the what? The clouds?" Remy interrupts, grinning over his shoulder.

Verena snorts, unable to suppress her amusement. In all their years together, Logan's aversion to flying has never changed, and she doubts it ever will. "You think this is funny, Reena?" Logan grumbles, his frustration clear. "We're up and down like a friggin' yo-yo. Where'd you get this thing anyway?"

"Oh, this is my baby," Remy replies proudly. "Won her in a game. Jacks over fives."

Logan's sarcasm drips through his words. "Oh, great." Verena laughs again, louder this time, and Logan turns his glare on her. "Oh! I don't know what you think's so funny, Vee."

She bursts into laughter, unable to help herself. "You should see the look on your face, Lo'. You look like you're gonna pee yourself."

Logan's scowl deepens, but there's no real anger behind it, just exasperation. Verena pats his thigh playfully, her laughter easing the tension. "Relax, we're almost there," Remy calls back as they pass through a bank of clouds. Suddenly, the island looms ahead, lights twinkling ominously in the distance.

"There it is, Three Mile Island," Remy announces, his tone almost casual. "Hide in plain sight. No one's gonna snoop around a nuclear reactor. They think it's gonna turn 'em into freaks."

"Like you?" Logan quips, his tone laced with dark humor.

"Right." Remy's response is smooth, his focus on the controls. "Alright, y'all ready? 'Cause it's now or never. Let's go."

"Bout time." Verena and Logan unbuckle, moving to the back of the plane. Logan opens the door, the wind whipping around them as he grabs Verena's hand. They jump together, a stream of curses—Italian and English—flying from their mouths as they skid across the water and wash up on the shore.

"Vaffanculo, Logan," Verena breathes out, pushing herself off the sand. "I am never jumping out of a plane again."

"Yeah, yeah," Logan grumbles, already trudging ahead. "Come on, Reena, let's get a move on."

Verena follows, her boots sinking into the ground as they head toward the ominous island ahead.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Word count: 4075

Translations: 

Andremo all'inferno - We're going to hell

Testa di cazzo! - dickhead

Vaffanculo - Fuck 

A/N: hope yalls Italian is up to date cause I'm not translating "shit" for the 5th chapter in a row, goodbye. Anyway, I'm literally in love with Verena and I know that im the author so that's like expected but like, I love this fic which is crazy cause I'm the author and should hate it with my guts but I dont. Anyway this is the longest chapter I think I've ever written for a fic so please tell me y'all are proud of me cause I almost died. 

Anyway, 30 mins left of the movie, probably about 2 or 3 chapters then, we get to act 2. I PROMISE LOGAN AND VERENA WILL FALL IN LOVE, or will they, can't say for sure :3

Love y'all lots,

Allegra 💙