#this scene is soo rrooooouuugh agh sorry

[zannithinks]

Fathom, please!

Thank you for the ask! It's so motivating ♡ Apologies for the delay, I got sick :( but here's a bit more of my crazy Fathom story. Be Warned: there are inconsistencies abound, this thing has a lot of context going on behind the scenes. If you're confused, don't worry, so is Jim. (This occurs just a few lines after the first snippet I shared, which is linked below) Fathom Snippets Part 1 | Part 2

“Gown off.” 

“What?” Jim hunches like the guy is about to rip it off of him. Rationally he knows a doctor wouldn't do that, but the frequency in his head flickers enough to sow deep rooted doubt. Someone’s ripped the clothes off his back before, it tells him, it could happen again. 

“Visual inspection for edema, lesions, rashes, the sort. It’s just me here, kid, ‘aint no one you gotta impress.” 

Jim doesn't move. The moment he reveals his skin, he’s gonna reveal something that shouldn’t be found out, but a snowstorm of static in his brain keeps him from remembering exactly what it is, and Bones keeps looking at him like- like-

“Doesn’t the tech tell you that?”  Jim’s hands curl over the edge of the biobed like the grip will ground him into the here and now. He’s pretty sure the doctor just glanced at the readings, probably seeing his elevated heart rate, but Jim can’t do anything about that, he’s too desperate to stall and too frustrated about not knowing why. 

“Don’t trust the machines with everything, that’s why they still hire me, don’t they?” 

This guy’s cocky. Not in the bold way Jim can be, more in the sheer amount of confidence he has in his own abilities to pick up more than bioscanners can. Competence is always a turn on, but Jim can’t focus on that. Really, he can’t focus on anything. Not since the red alert started blaring. His chest tightens at the reminder of his nightmare. Or was it a memory? 

The doctor settles into his stance, looking perfectly ready to stand there all day. “There’s no rush, Kirk. When you’re ready we’ll continue.” 

He flinches. “Don’t call me that.” 

Bones doesn’t call him that unless he’s pissed off or trying to be annoying. The doctor’s not angry, but his frown is deeper, so Jim’s gotta be doing something wrong. This isn’t his life. Sporadic bursts of small truths come through his brains buzzing static. Jim's from a place where he's going to live alone and die alone, and that's how it's supposed to go.

“What should I call you?” 

He risks a glance. Bones looks tired and worn out, but his tone remains patient.

“Jim.”  “Ok, Jim.” 

It teases a smile out of him, even though this Jim wouldn't understand the huff of irritation is actually disguised amusement.

This world belongs to him and Bones, and he’s fucking things up for them. He needs to stop fucking things up. 

“Ok.”  Jim nods, and this has to be the first time he's ever had to psyche himself up to take his clothes off. Or maybe just the first time he remembers.

Jim yanks the tie at the back of his neck and rips the gown off like it’s personally offended him. There. It wasn’t that hard. There was no reason to get so bent out of shape about it. 

Then he catches the doctor's expression.

#zanni writes #wip #Fathom #the scene is #mckirk #but the overall fic will include spirk #this scene is soo rrooooouuugh agh sorry #ask zanni #zanni answers