Lax: got this idea today while reading some Fanfic. more to come soon... maybe

Penny: he'll get it done. we'll be riding him on it until he does. Right Forge?

Forge: oh, yeah. like that worked with the other four stories we tried that on! one of 'em was mine! and the other one never even got written!

Penny: 'least you had a story! i still don't have one!

Forge: 'hm' maybe he'll put you in this one. ;P

Penny: 'sighs' somehow i doubt it. in any case he will at least write one more chapter for this one-


Forge: oh, yeah, that. especially if he gets lots of good reviews from this


Penny: Hell, i think he'd take ANY reviews!

Forge: True 'nods'

Penny: oh! by the way if your confused as to whose who, Lax is the Author. Forge and I are what you might call 'shoulder angel/demons'

Forge: if you can tie a knot around the sun with cotton thread. we're more like muses than anything else. we just also happen to double as 'GET OFF YOUR LAZY ARSE!' consciences too. too bad we don't do a very good job.

Lax: Hey, guys?

Forge/Penny: yeah?

Lax: Shove off!


"Hello Mr. Castor."

"Please Doc, it's been five months already. Just call me Myth. Everyone I know does."

"As you wish. We've got the test results in. And we know what's causing those headaches you've been having." The doctor gave a heavy sigh, never a good sign in his experience.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense until I die Doc! Tell me what it is!" His slightly humorous sarcastic jibe seemed to hit unexpectedly hard, another bad sign. Then it clicked.

"I am dying, aren't I?"

The tone was flat, almost uncaring. It wasn't a question, but a statement. The doctor gave another sigh, though it was a little mixed between relief that he didn't have that much more to break, irritation at being interrupted and the original guilt of having to deliver such dire news in the first place.

"Yes Myth. I'm afraid you have a brain tumor." The doctor paused again to let the information sink in.

"Well that's not terrible, is it? I thought tumors were deal-able?"

"In most circumstances, yes. Unfortunately yours is a, how do I put it, a 'double-edged lose-lose' scenario." He pulled some MRI images and put them on the display. "You see here, the tumor is small enough, and positioned in such a way that no real damage is done to any of your major functions, apart from your headaches. Unfortunately, the position that makes it more or less 'benign', and yes I know that makes no sense, but bear with me-"

"Actually, it, makes, perfect sense." Myth pointed out calmly.

"Oh. Well. Good. Anyway as I was saying, the position that makes it cause no serious harm also makes it too dangerous to try removing via surgery. It would shred your brain, to be perfectly honest."

"Well, that's certainly not the way to go then." The doctor seemed a little unnerved at his patients nonchalantness toward his own dire state of health, but was grateful nonetheless that he didn't have to try to calm a man who went into hysterics because he was just told he was dying. Those were always the hardest to deal with.

"Quite. The only other option for removal in such cases, would be to wait for it to grow enough to reach safely. However in your case, that would do about as much good as trying to remove it now, as by the time it gets that big, the damage will have already been done."

"Whell. I guess that's that then. Kinda sucks. How long have I got, in your estimate?"

"About three months."

"That long? Hmm, that's not too bad. 'Least it's not three weeks. Or days."

"I have to say, Myth. You seem to be taking this news awfully well, considering you're only twenty-five."

"Hmm? Oh, that. I had a bout with severe apathetic depression about six months ago. For ten years. You learn to take things in stride with that kind of attitude." He huffed a laugh.

"What was that song again? 'Big Yellow Taxi'. 'You don' know what ya got till it's gone.' No. I'm not gonna curl up. I never did. I got three months left?" The man in his mid-twenties looked at his doctor for the past five months. He stood and smiled. A smile of pure contentment.

"Then Doc," He shook his hand. "It's been a real pleasure knowing you. Thanks for everything these past few months. Now, I need to get going." He started picking up his coat and things.

"Where to, Myth?"

"Where to Doc? To Live. To have the time of a lifetime." He gave a dark chuckle that seemed to make the hairs on the doctors neck stand on end.

"Where else? To Jurassic Park."