Being a nurse was one thing in this day and age.

Being an underground nurse for mutants, was an entirely different thing.

You didn’t know when it started— when you noticed inconsistencies with some of your patients —which turned out to be the mutant gene. You should’ve reported it, but you didn’t.

Instead, you opened up an at-home clinic specializing in secret mutant care. You may have been human and seen what mutants could do, but your oath to never harm trumped your feelings. Eventually, you had mutants from all over the country coming to your tiny clinic, which quickly grew in terms of infamy.

Your clinic was a hotspot for ‘evil’ mutants, good mutants, people who didn’t know they were mutants and children— you helped everyone regardless of what they did —because it was the right thing to do.

That’s where you met Sabretooth, even though you weren’t entirely sure why he seemed to come running to your clinic. You knew he had regenerative abilities— had seen them in action —and knew he could heal limbs, life-threatening wounds, and all sorts of things.

Yet, he came to you for help.

“Sabre, this is the third time this week you’ve come running to me with nonexistent wounds.” Your voice is a soft drawl as you check his figure, looking for the supposed wounds he had, though you could see nothing.

“I keep tellin’ ya Doc, there’s sum there, you just ain’t looking hard enough.”

You can almost hear the irritation in his voice, almost, though he seems more intent on playing with you than anything.

“I got this pain in my side, won’t go away no matter what I do!”

You knew Victor was prone to manic episodes— he was a socio and psychopath from what you suspected —but he did seem genuine about the pain he was feeling. Sadly, it was your duty to ensure your patients were comfortable, so you had no choice but to do your job.