Close to Home
Author's Note: Set in season 3 shortly after Izzie has returned to work at the hospital.
"Okay, what seems to be the problem?" Isabel asked, eyeing the somewhat sparse chart. She hated walk-in's, and more than that she hated working the pit.
She looked up, into the face of the young man before her as he sat on the edge of the hospital bed.
"It's my stomach" he answered.
The boy let out a small, ironic laugh under his breath "Yeah".
"Lot's of pain"
Izzie looked up to see a young girl had come to stand bed-side; she looked to be about 17, the same age as the boy.
"Lot's of pain?" Izzie repeated the girls words, eyeing her carefully.
Looking at both of them now, she saw that they were a very handsome couple. The girl had black ringlets, pale skin and deep blue eyes, coupled with her sweet red doll lips she looked better suited to a different era than the one she was currently in. Maybe one with corsets and hoop-skirts, Izzie eyed her faded denim jeans and Rolling Stones t-shirt as she glanced down at the boy's chart again. The boy also had pale skin, but that was probably to do with the abdominal pain. He had curly blonde hair and brown eyes, an odd but flattering combination.
"For about two weeks now" the girl chimed in.
Izzie looked up and watched as her hand began to gently stroke the boy's hair, while her eyes remained on Izzie.
"Errr, and what sort of pain…." Izzie scanned the chart for a name, but the boy quickly piped up "Ayden" he supplied, adding "…it's a stabbing pain"
"Stabbing pain" Izzie murmured. "Do you play any sport or….?"
"It's cancer" the girl said, matter-of-factly.
Izzie looked up, "excuse me?".
"He has pancreatic cancer" she answered, without blinking.
Without saying a word the boy leant down and pulled out a faded blue back-pack from underneath the hospital bed. Unzipping it, he pulled out a manila folder full of paper and handed it to Izzie.
She eyed them both suspiciously again and opened the folder, her eyes reading test results, x-rays, labs and doctor's notes that did indeed say that Ayden Hames, 18 years old had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer two years ago.
Izzie looked up at both Ayden and the girl, her jaw agape, and then back down at the papers. On one long doctor's report she noticed the header at the top of the page 'Anchor Hospital: Atlanta, Georgia'. These weren't the sort of files patients were just given to take home and keep. These were official files.
"Where did you get…?" Izzie began.
"We stole them" Ayden answered dryly.
"You, what?" Izzie stammered.
Ayden let out a heavy sigh and reached for the girl's hand, holding it in his lap he looked Izzie in the eye, "Caitlin and I ran away one year ago when I decided to stop my treatment… we've been bumming around the country for one year and now we both guess that I have to come in and face the music"
"Face the music?" Izzie repeated.
"I'm dying" Ayden said simply.
Yep, Izzie hated working the pit, and she hated walk-in's….