A/N: Okay so we're almost done with the sad stuff, hang in there.

Disclaimer: Any references to the Twilight series are not mine, they belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 5

The breakdown

-Wednesday 3pm-

At first she did not really believe it was true. She had expected to receive a call that denied everything she had seen. She waited to hear the Detective from Hood River call and tell her there it was a mistake that they had found Clayton-alive this time. Maybe he would have a broken leg, and that was why he had been lost. Maybe they would find that the body they had found was someone else's. Maybe it had been all a dream, she would wake up, it would be Friday morning, and she would go to the trailhead to find Clayton and Jeff waiting patiently for her to pick them up. Every time the phone rang she would grab the receiver anxiously, only to hear Teresa or one of her other friends offering words of love and concern. Lindy remembered saying, thank you, over and over again, sometimes at inappropriate times cluing the other person that she was not really listening. The 'real' call never really came; instead there was a knock at the door.

Lindy jumped up slipping on a pile of papers spread next to the couch, they tore and she scrapped her knees painfully against the wood floor. The visitor had to knock a second time before Lindy was able to answer the door. It was Bill Crandall and another officer she did not recognize.

"Lindy…Err…aaa Ms. Daws." Bill took off his brown wide brimmed had and tucked it beneath his arm pinning it to his side. "May we come in?"

Lindy felt herself nod, her mouth had gone dry and tightness had filled her throat.

"The tests came in this morning, I'm afraid that its results are conclusive the body we found is Clayton McKinley." Bill had said all this while staring at his worn leather boots. He glanced up surreptitiously to see how she was taking the news.

A high pitched ringing filled her ears, and she realized she had quit breathing. "Thank you for telling me," Lindy forced herself to croak.

"Is…is there anything we can do for you ma'am," the other officer asked nervously.

"No, thank you," Lindy replied with a ragged gasp. She held open the door hoping the two men would get the hint. Lindy did not want to fall apart in front of them. The officers exited the doorway, and walk to their SUV, heads bowed.

Lindy drug herself to the bathroom. She sat, shaking uncontrollably, on the toilet lid and stared blankly at the heating vent. The furnace kicked on and a warm surge of air snapped Lindy out of her zombie like state. She stripped and climbed into the shower.

She turned the water up so high the heat left the skin with a stinging sensation. Then she let it all go. In a wracking hysterical sob all the emotion surged forward. An open water gate was not a good association more like a weakened dam finally cracking and exploding outward to drown the tiny towns below. The hot tears felt cold compared to the scalding water. The wracking sobs became a fit of coughing, in which she was afraid she might vomit. Dizziness over took her and she found herself in a heap on the bath tub floor, the hot water sending the hair into her face. The slow drain allowed the water to build up to the point that she sucked it in and out through half her mouth with her deep gasps. Eventually she felt her self drifting away…. Darkness.

She awoke cold, the water had reached over her ears, and she'd rolled over on her back. The stinging water was now bitter cold. With a deep choking breath she reached up to turn off the tap. She lay there and listened to the water gurgle slowly down the drain. Her numb fingers drummed the syllables of her hectic thoughts on the tile above the tub. When the water had drained to a tiny puddle she could bear the thought of standing.

Wearing thermal underwear she huddled under the green tied quilt her mother had made before she had moved to Oregon. Staring at the empty glasses of water next to her bed, she willed herself to sleep, but her mind would not settle. She did not want to remember, did not want think about it… anymore.

-Thursday 4:30am-

Lindy stared blankly over the edge of her bed trying to think of anything but Clayton. She counted the hardwood planks covering the floor, she read through the titles of the CDs in the rack next to the bed. She made lists of the medications she prescribed so often. All of the painkillers, the antibiotics, the blood pressure medications. She listed their drug interactions, their pros and cons, their dosages and any other trivial fact she could dredge up from her mind. Finally she had run out of things to think about, she crawled across the floor to the bookcase to look up the dosage for antifungal medication that she could not remember. As she pulled a large volume from the shelf two more books slipped to the floor. One was a book on ethics, and one on tying hooks for fishing. The later book had been Clayton's; when this thought registered a stabbing pain grew in Lindy's middle. She seized the edge of the book and chucked it across the room into the closet out of site. Her eyes drifted up to the rest of the books in on the shelf. When she came across one of Clayton's books she threw it roughly into the closet with the others. Thirty minutes later a cluttered pile had formed spreading into the room as the closet was no longer able to hold all of the items that reminded Lindy of Clayton. There were books, T-shirts, coffee cups, towels, jewelry given to her as gifts, hiking boots and several other items. Many of these things she had cradled lovingly while Clayton had been missing, now the site of these objects were painful to behold.

Lindy staggered into the kitchen the clock above the oven said 5:30am. She was not sure what day it was. She had turned the ringer off on the phone, the number fifteen flashed showing the number of messages on the answering machine; Lindy had also ignored the occasional knocking at the door. Her stomach ached terribly, she pulled open the fridge opened a Tupperware of some unidentified substance, sniffed it and placed the entire container in a new garbage sack from under the sink. A half curdled gallon of milk followed, by the rotting contents of the vegetable drawer also found their way into the trash bag. She placed it next to the door to be taken out. The thought of eating made her throat tighten; there was no way that she would be able to keep anything down.

Sméagol padded into the kitchen, wide eyed, his tail sinuously shifting from side to side. He had passed through the house all night crying for attention, Lindy was sure he was missing Clayton too. She glanced at his food and water dish, she filled both wondering how long it had been empty. Sméagol rubbed against her leg letting out a tortured yowl, he pawed at her leg imploringly.

"You already have more than you can eat what more do you want!" the cat rubbed his cheek against her foot and howled mournfully, again.

"Shut up! Shut up, Shut up!" Lindy was surprised as the words exploded in cracked voice that did not sound like her own. Sméagol darted, out of the kitchen in fear, claws scratching across the slick tile. What is wrong with me? her mind ragged.

"I'm so sorry Sméagol!" Lindy wailed as in a chocking sob as she slid her back down the wall to huddle in a ball next to the oven. Why did he have to go? Why did this have to happen? What had she done to deserve this punishment? It was not fair! There was no other man as kind and as full of love as Clayton, why did he have to die? She remembered having similar thoughts when the town postal worker had been hit by a drunk driver. Why was life so unfair! If there is a god why would he let things like this happen?

"God, if your there, I'll do anything if you send him back. I'll serve medical missions, I'll volunteer more time for charity, I'll donate all my money, I'll study until I find a cure for some horrible disease. I'll never swear again, I'll never... I'll never… anything you want from me. Anything! I can't do this without him! I can't bear to be here alone. I can't stand this pain! I'll do anything if I can just have him back! Please, Please, I beg you! Oh please…" Lindy's poor excuse for a prayer was spoken in an anguished voice rising and lowering in intensity and pitch. She was relieved that she was alone and no one could hear her, but yet she was still alone. Sméagol rubbed his head against her hand, as if he had somehow knew how alone she felt. He pressed his face against her check and purred blowing fish scented breath into her face.

-Friday 1pm-

"It's broken. See? The scaphoid bone is fractured can you see it?" Lindy pointed to a tiny deformity on the X-ray.

Marge nodded. "I guess. I can't see much of anything, but you're the doctor. You want me to call Dr. Martin? Can it be fixed surgically…now? It's been several weeks since she fell."

"It's started to heal incorrectly. I think we need to refer her to one of the orthopedic surgeons in Portland or Vancouver. Its way beyond my skill to fix this mess." Lindy walked away from the bright lights and sat at the table in the break room. She pulled the phone towards her and reached into her lab coat pocket to pull out a slip of paper. She waited what felt like and eternity for someone to pick up the phone.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Martin from Westland Hospital. I was told that you have received the body of Clayton McKinley is that correct?" Lindy pushed her guilt of impersonating Dr. Martin aside as she listened carefully.

"I'm sorry doctor, but I'm not at liberty to say" the voice on the other side of the phone responded.

"Well, his mother told me that his body had been turned over for investigation. I know that I have no right to ask about it, but you see I think I have a patient who's life may depend on what marks are on that body. I have a boy in the ER with similar bite marks. Please, it's important. I have to know what killed him." Now she was making up patients how far would she go to find out what had killed Clayton? As far as it takes, she thought to herself.

"I'm sorry ma'am.. I can't help you." There was a long pause on the line. "Just…well… let me ask the forensic analyst if he will take your call."

So they do have his body, Lindy contemplated. At the funeral the casket had been closed, and no one had bothered to see if there was anything actually inside. No one would really want to know exactly what had happened to the body… No one but Lindy that is.

"Ves?" a heavily accented voice came over the line.

Lindy took a deep breath and pushed the heal of her hand into her closed left eye, as she used her false story to hunt for details related to Clayton's death. She told the foreign man a heart wrenching story about an injured boy. She was curious about the marks found on the body, because she suspected there was a correlation to the marks found on her 'patient'. "Are there any clues about what attacked him? Anything that might help me treat this boy?" She added the last question to make her curiosity sound innocent.

"I'm zo very sarry doc-tor. But it could not vee zee zame animal dat attacked jur boy. Zee marks on zis body are unlike anyzing vee have seen before. I am not convinced zat zey ver made by an animal. Perhaps zey ver from an elaborate murder. Zey are not bite or claw marks, more believable zat zey vere from a sharp cutting tool. Zere is a doc-tor in Portland who z-specializes in outdoor injuries maybe he vill be able to help jue."

Lindy pretended to write down the phone number that was given to her; she fished through her mind trying to find away to gain more information. She could not think of anything that would not look suspicious so she thanked the man and hung up. She sighed and looked up to see Duncan sitting on the edge of the table. He was dragging his finger absently around the rim of a coffee cup.

"So where is this 'patient' of yours?" he asked cocking his eyebrow mockingly.

"I just… just hate not really knowing what happened." Lindy dropped her forehead onto her arm that rested on the table. There had been countless rumors and theories. That aliens had done this terrible deed that a rock had simply fallen on him, and even a rumor that Jeff had murdered Clayton and faked his own disappearance. Lindy could not agree with any of these crazy ideas, yet she could not explain the situation in any other way.

"You know you need to get out, do something besides set at home and stew over this. Some of us are getting together at Matt's club tonight, you should come."

"You know I don't drink, Duncan, why would I want to go?" she traced her finger along the faux word laminate on the table.

"You don't have to drink to have fun…isn't that what you always used to say. Just come over and play pool or something. I bet that if you and I teamed up we might actually give Parker a run for his money in a game of eight ball. You remember Parker right, the tech from radiology?" Duncan just wanted her to return to her normal self, but Lindy doubted she would ever be the same.

"I don't think I'm ready for that," Lindy stood up and walked back to the front desk to finish her charting.

She had been filling out an application requesting a new residency in another state when a loud exclamation broke her concentration.

"There she is! I told you she still worked here." A boy in a wheelchair was rolling across the ER bay in her general direction followed by two adults. "Dr. Daws I was hoping to see you before we left."

Lindy's mind when blank. Who were these people? She knew they should be familiar.

A stout red faced man extended his hand. "Thank you for all your help and encouragement it has really made a difference."

"Sure," Lindy returned the handshake, but could not hide the puzzled look that came across her face.

"You don't remember me." It was a statement of fact not a question that was spoken by the boy in the wheelchair. His excited expression had fallen, and now he was flushed with disappointment.

"Come, now, Josh, the doctor can't remember everything." The boy's father placed a hand on his shoulder.

Josh. Josh? Who was Josh?... Oh! Josh! She made the connection in her mind. How could she forget Josh? The boy that had been the cold water drowning victim several weeks ago. It had become very difficult to wean the boy from the ventilator. Dr. Martin had called her several times while she had been hiking trails searching for Clayton. After returning home after each day Lindy had stopped at the hospital to assist Dr. Martin in finding ways to improve the boy's strength so he could breath on his own once again. It seemed like it had all happened in another lifetime.

"Of course, I remember you! It's just been a long week and my mind is a little slow today. Forgive me. I'm so happy to see you!"

"I wanted to ask…well never mind." The boy stuttered.

"Oh, don't be silly what do you want to ask?" She reassured.

"Well, even though I've been sick the guys at school insisted that the teacher leave my spot open in the play. So I still get to act on Tuesday the last night of the play. And… I was wondering if you and Dr. Martin would like to come see it?"

"Would we? Well, I can't speak for Dr. Martin but I will be there!" Lindy crouched down to look Josh in the eye. "That is so cool. I can't tell how excited I am."

"Cool. I didn't know if you'd want to. Duncan said you have been really busy lately, and that you might not come, but he also said he would pound on your door until you came out then he would drag you to the play kicking and screaming if he had to." Josh laughed as his parents started pushing him to the hospital entrance.

"Well, Duncan doesn't know everything. And I am not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me go around 'kicking and screaming'." Lindy laughed. Do I really look that bad? She wondered in the back of her mind. She returned Josh's wave, and went back to the break room.

"When is everyone going to Matt's?" she asked Duncan who still sat on the table.

"Nine-thirty," Mitch answered from his stance in front of the microwave. The smell of microwave pizza spread through the room. "You comin'?" Mitch smiled around the spoon that he had stuck in his mouth.

"I'm thinking about." Lindy responded.

"Well stop thinking about it and just go!" Marge pushed Lindy lightly out of the doorway, and walked to the fridge. "Honestly child! What are we going to do with you? You'll be an old maid like me if you don't go out once in a while."

Lindy smiled in reply, but she felt a nervous tightness in her stomach. She was not forgetting about Clayton she reminded herself she just had to try to keep going.

-Friday (same day) 10:30pm-

"Sit down! No one wants to hear you sing another song! You hear me Alden Black!" Parker laughed.

Duncan and Lindy had beaten Parker and a short redhead named Mitzy for the second time that night. Lindy was normally much better at pool, and she usually enjoyed it, \ but she did not feel like she could really focus on the game. He mind kept leaping sharply away from things that reminded her of Clayton. Since one of those things was Duncan, whom had been one of his best friends, it had made the game much more intense than usual.

"Come-on, one more game" Mitzy begged.

"No really, I've had enough; I think I'm just going to get a coke." Lindy handed her pool cue to Duncan, ignoring his annoyed look. "Get Mitch or Bill to take my spot."

"Lindy, we're kicking their butt, just like I told you, just one more round," he pleaded.

Lindy shook her head and walked to the bar. Alden staggered to the stool next to her. "What kind-a-drink can I buy ya Lindy?"

"I'll have a coke," Lindy steadied Alden as he slipped forward on the stool.

"Two rum and cokes!" Alden announced to the bar tender waving two fingers in the air.

"Oh, no… just coke for me thanks," Lindy corrected making eye contact with the bartender and shifting her eyes to Alden. The bartender winked and nodded, taking the hint that Alden should probably have regular coke as well. "So, have you spoken to Teresa yet tonight?" she asked Alden so he would not notice that the bartender was not pouring any rum.

"Nah…I'm not drunk enough to do that yet." Alden said. Although in Lindy's mind he was too drunk to have a conversation with anyone. "Ya know what… you look like…" Lindy steeled herself for a crude word. "... really tired." Alden finished the phrase without swearing. "An…Lindy I'm soooo sssorry, it's all my fault you're so sad."

"Alden," Lindy whispered softly, reassuringly. "It is absolutely not your fault. What are you talking about?"

"I was 'posed to stop you from seeing that. I meant to keep you away from the site where they found him. But… I couldn't tell you no. Didn't know how to stop you. So Sorrrry."

"I… I wouldn't have listened to you anyway. I just… can't believe he's really gone." Her throat felt tight, but she refused to be seen crying at a bar.

"Yeah, know what ya mean."

"I don't understand it. I've been trying to figure it out. But I just can't figure out what did this" she was speaking more to herself than to Alden.

"You don't want to know 'bout it…'bout them. They be really terrible, I hear." Alden looked glassy eyed at the mirror behind the bar.

"Who? Who are 'they'?" Lindy asked sure that Alden was talking nonsense, but still was curious about his delusion.

"The cold ones," Alden propped his head on his hand and sighed.

"What are the 'cold ones' ?" She asked.

"'S… a story my people tell, but I don't believe 'em but sometimes things like this makes me think they real. Maybe my brother is right. He believes in all them stories, and legends and stuff."

"I didn't know you had a brother, Alden."

"Yeah, he lives back at the res… I think."

"Where is that?"

"It's back over by La Push. Its pretty there I miss it sometimes, but I couldn't stand the way it feels to be separated from everyone else ya know?"

"So your brother believes in the Cold ones?"

"Yeah," Alden snorted. "He called me a several months ago telling me they left for a while. He was all excited and asked me come back because it was 'safe' for me to live with the white folks again."

"So…what does he think they are?" this was strange and unbelievable but still made the hair on her arms stand on end.

"They're supposed to be these creatures that suck the blood outta your body; they are cold to the touch and move really fast. Kind of like those things in that TV show with that Buffy girl, but they got it all wrong according to Billy. They not scared of light, and all the garlic in the world won't save you as far as he's concerned."

"Is Billy your brother's name?"

"Yeah, he has a few kids, they are really cute, or they were now his girls are married I think Jake is the only one left at home."

"So he believes in Vampires?" she asked outright.

"Yeah, silly isn't it? But that's my brother. He tries to keep the traditions like my dad did. His health isn't too good now a days, so I don't know what he does, but he was on the council and everything. I guess they don't care how crazy you are as long as you're pure Quileute. I think this drink tastes funny. Does your drink taste funny? "

A/N: I tried to kind of cover all the steps involved with the grieving process: Anger, bargaining, depression, denial, and acceptance. Well… Acceptance isn't quiet taking place here… that takes time.

And finally: Enter the 'cold ones'.