MopCat (mop_cat) wrote in ae_match,

[FIC] not going to lie, I steal fic titles from whatever song I might be listening to

 Title: Nature of Dust
Author: mop_cat
Team: Angst
Prompt: covers
Word Count: 883
Rating: pg
Warnings: not really character death, but kinda.

This is somewhat based on Never Let Me Go, but not really, considering I never finished book nor movie. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say I took the general idea and completely and utterly bullshitted all the details.

Pretending to fall in love: their saving grace.

Or so Arthur’s gathered. No one’s actually ever tried it before in their time at Chrisborne House. Maybe he’s trying to find fact in what he’s come to see as their own take on folk stories. Maybe. Then again, maybe there’s a chance Dom and Mal might actually be in love and maybe falling in love will get them out of this.

Arthur tries to fall asleep after that, tries to ignore the way Eames continues to fidget, fingers twitching, in his sleep.

Mal is the one that first presents the idea to their group. They’d been milling around an auction stall, just two weeks after Arthur figures out what they really want from them. Mal works fast.

Mal’s always stood by the idea that she doesn’t believe in love, so it’s somewhat a surprise to Arthur when she’s the one to place forward the idea.

Arthur turns to Eames, after two weeks of trying not to look at anyone, and grins till his dimples show. We have a fucking chance, is what he thinks.

It’s up to Arthur now, to figure out the details.

Once upon a time, Arthur has the memory of someone calling them Special. When they were kids, it was easy to believe. They took it upon themselves to dream of being heroes, super powers and all. We’re going to save the world, he also remembers Dom saying once, eyes bright.

In reality, they’re donors.

Arthur knows enough to know that the world they live in is dying. More importantly, at least to the inhabitants of Chrisborne House, the people who call earth home are, also, dying.

That’s where they come in: they’ve figured out how to prolong the human race, they’re still working on the Earth.

Death is becoming unstoppable on Earth. Instead of the projection during the year of 2012 that we’ve found the cure to what appeared almost everything: cancer, common cold, sickness – evolution decided to fight back. Now, in 2034, a human’s first, lethal, organ failure happens at the age of twenty-two; on average.

So, they decided to genetically modify people. They’d, essentially, quarantine a small selection of the human race. At first, it was anyone, and those people were used to breed. Then, it became children, brought up as complete outside the norm of the human race.

As science progressed, they cut out the middleman: these children with perfect, unfailing bodies could be created without parents.

Arthur knows that Eames, Mal, Dom and himself are but four of these people. And with the right amount of money, Arthur knows he’s going to be sold to the highest bidder: his own body destined to prolong the life of a normal human being just that tiniest bit longer.

According to statistics, it’s his liver they’re going to want first.

Apparently, falling in love gives them until they’re twenty before they’re sold. Or so the story goes, and in between the ages of eighteen and twenty, they’re free to do as they please. Two years to pretend to be apart of the norm.

Arthur, since the age of twelve, has wanted nothing more in his life than to travel across country by car.

If they work things right, he’s going to have two years to do so.

They pair off, Arthur and Eames, Mal and Dom.

Pretend to fall in love, Arthur thinks they can do this.

Mal is the first one taken. It’s two days before her eighteenth birthday when they send her the letter over a breakfast of orange juice, yoghurt and toast.

She’s being shipped off later within the day, and directly after breakfast, Mal is expected at her final medical exam.

Dom bursts into tears on the spot. It’s a better act of love than he’d been showing for the better part of two years.

“It’s my fault,” he says and Arthur thinks, yeah Dom, it is.

Arthur stops looking at Eames again, pretends he doesn’t notice every movement he makes, and never apparently stops making.

Eames can’t sit still, a teacher once told him, with a laugh, that a boy who can paint so well shouldn’t be able to sit still without a brush in his hand.

They were six at the time, and Arthur has yet to prove her wrong.

Dom is taken four weeks later.

They don’t die, directly, in most cases. There are several parts of the body one can live without. In some cases, Arthur knows, that each of them can live well into their thirties. The thing is, during those years, you spend majority of your time within the hospital. Either under the knife or looking after those that are.

Arthur doesn’t expect to take a car trip during those years.

The thing is: Arthur and Eames have never pretended to be in love.

They shared their first kiss at the age of twelve; they’ve lived together since creation. Arthur knows that there is no way the fact that they were actually in love could have been missed. They might flaunt it in the last two years, but it’s never been a secret.

Instead, someone decides that two boys isn’t a fitting kind of love.

Yusuf, the man in charge of his last medical examination, tells Arthur as such.
Tags: fanfic, fic, prompt: covers, team angst
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