Blood. I'm lying in a pool of blood, but I'm strapped down, I can't move. I struggle to free my arms, watching as the blood stains my perfectly crisp white summer dress. I can feel the restraints around my wrists begin to tighten, as if there's no room for them to get any tighter.

As I flail about, trying to free myself from these shackles I see that I'm not alone, my sister Maggie is beside me, and she's dead, and there's nothing I can do about it. I scream, a guttural scream, hoping that someone, anyone would help me save her.

And if it came down to it I would choose to save her instead of myself.

"Sidney, Sidney darling, wake up!" I open my eyes frantically, my body shivering, but it's not cold. My mother sits on the edge of my bed, seemingly unsure whether or not she should comfort me physically.

"What happened?" I whisper, sitting up and pulling my knees up to my chest.

"You had a bad dream," She tells me, carefully brushing my hair out of my face, "We could hear you screaming from downstairs."

"I'm sorry," I mutter, feeling my eyes well up with tears, and right now I don't know how I have any tears left in my body.

"Sidney, you have nothing to apologise for," She smiles, cupping my cheeks.

"What time is it?" I ask, wiping the tears off of my face.

"It's just gone eight," She tells me, "You were asleep for about eight hours."

"I didn't think I'd be able to sleep without Rafe," I reply, "And I don't know what I'd do without him either."

"He seems like he really cares about you," She smiles.

"Yeah," I nod, not exactly sure how to articulate the way my friends feel about him.

"Gina, he's here." Dad shouts up the stairs.

"Who's here?" I ask, feeling my heartbeat begin to quicken.

"We're really worried about you, so we've managed to get a psychiatrist to come and speak to you," She tells me like it's not a big deal, "You don't seem your usual self."

"Have you thought that maybe it's because I saw the sheriff die as I tried and failed to save her?" I question her, climbing out of bed.

"We need to see if there's anything we can do to help you," She says calmly as I stare out of my bedroom window, "Just get dressed and meet us downstairs, Ive been told that he's a very nice man."

"So you've been talking about me?" I reply, turning to face her, "Telling everyone that I'm fucking crazy?"

"Sidney-"

"No, it's fine," I cut her off aggressively, rummaging in my wardrobe and picking out a cropped vest and denim shorts, "I'll talk to your doctor friend, and then you'll see that this," I point to myself, "Is a very normal, very human reaction to trauma."

"I'll be downstairs." She tells me, leaving my bedroom and closing the door behind me.

I frantically get dressed, tying my hair up in a half up style, just to keep it out of my face, not bothering with makeup.

Opening my bedroom door I hear my parents talking to the psychiatrist downstairs. I tiptoe across to the stairs to hear what they're talking about.

"We're just so worried about her, she's not eating properly, she's barely sleeping and when she does sleep she has these nightmares." I hear my mother tell him.

I decide to just face the music and head downstairs, making my presence known as I reach the bottom of the stairs. I walk into the living room to see my parents sitting on one couch while the man I assume to be the psychiatrist sits on the other.

"You must be the shrink." I sigh, entering the living room.

"Sidney," My mum exclaims, "He's a psychiatrist."

"Sid, come and sit with us," Dad smiles, patting the seat in between him and mum.

"Hi Sidney," The doctor smiles intensely, "I'm Doctor Brady, your parents have been telling me you recently witnessed a tragic and traumatic event."

"I saw the sheriff bleed to death in front of me," I tell him bluntly, watching as my parents sigh in horror, "You said be honest."

"Honesty is good, I can't treat you effectively otherwise," He assures me, "Would you mind telling me how you've been feeling since the event took place?"

"I've not been sleeping properly, and I've been having these dreams." I tell him, tapping my fingers against my knees anxiously.

"And what happens in your dreams?" He asks.

"Sometimes it's just replaying what happened, and other times it's just blood on my hands, and I can't clean it no matter how hard I try." I explain to him.

"Do you feel responsible for what happened?" He asks me.

"I wonder if I could have stopped it if I'd got there sooner, I wonder if I could have saved the sheriff's life." I tell him.

"From what you've told me, I think you're suffering from PTSD, which is a common trauma response," He explains, "I can prescribe some medication which will relieve the symptoms and hopefully you'll find it easier to sleep, and go about your day to day life."

"What if I don't want to take medication?" I ask.

"We can discuss the option of cognitive behaviour therapy, which many people find beneficial in the wake of trauma." He begins to tell me.

"I don't need psychological support," I insist, "I just need a proper night's sleep, maybe some sleeping pills or something."

"I wouldn't advise that unless you're struggling with severe insomnia," He replies, as I feel my hands trembling again, "How about you come to the doctor's office one day this week and we can write you a prescription for medication to help stabilise your mood."

"I don't want that shit," I exclaim, standing up, "I need to be on my own for a bit."

"Honey, John B is still out there, you need to be careful," Mum calls out as I walk towards the front door.

"I'd load the bullets for him if it meant getting these thoughts out of my head," I shout, opening the door, letting them dwell on that statement as they find an alternative way to put me in a straight jacket.

Rafe might have said that he wouldn't give me coke, but that doesn't mean I can't get some for myself. I know where his dealer lives, I can just cycle there right now and get some gear and hopefully the noises and the videos buzzing around in my brain will stop, even just for a little while.

Cycling across to the cut on a day as hot as today might normally be a mistake, but the pain in my leg muscles is the best distraction from the pain in my heart that I've got. I pedalled as fast as I could, hoping that Barry would be home and I'd be able to get what I wanted.

I reach Barry's house, leaning my bike against the outside of his house, feeling the trembling feeling still present all over my body. Once I've left my bike I make my way up to the porch, but before I can knock on the door I notice that Rafe's beaten me to it.

He's sitting on the floor of the porch, while Barry sits on a chair in front of him. But Rafe doesn't look right, even through the mesh of the porch I can see that.

He's crying, I don't think I've ever seen Rafe cry before.

Rather than politely knocking, I open the door, making my presence known as I approach them both, Barry turning to face me.

"Hello stranger," Barry smirks, "I'd meant to come by to apologise for our little misunderstanding the other day."

"Not now," I tell him sternly, watching as Rafe desperately wipes the tears from his face, focusing on the floor rather than me.

Seeing someone you care about in a bad way always seems to overpower your own negative emotions. My hands may still be shaking and the images of Peterkin on the tarmac are still looping around my head, but I can see Rafe struggling, and I can bring myself to focus on him.

"Rafe," I whisper, crouching beside him, causing him to look up at me with emotionless eyes.

"Barry, can you give us a minute?" I glance at him.

"This is my crib, you know?" He scoffs.

"And I don't give a fuck," I reply aggressively, "Outside."

"Jeez," He sighs, standing up from his chair and heading outside.

"You're even hotter when you're angry and protective," Rafe smirks, nudging me with his elbow.

"Are you okay?" I ask, resting my hands on my knees, "Because from where I'm sitting, you don't look very okay."

"Do you ever feel like you're failing everyone around you, including yourself?" He replies, and his honesty and transparency surprises me.

"All the time," I nod, "Try being the least favourite daughter, but also being the one who didn't go missing."

"For what it's worth, my dad has been the exact same since Sarah ran off with John B." Rafe tells me.

"My parents cornered me with a psychiatric doctor today," I sigh half heartedly, "Pretty sure they're convinced that I've gone crazy."

"People have been saying that ever since you first kissed me," He smirks, trying to make light of the situation.

"We'll just be crazy together then," I smile, resting my head on his shoulder.

"How did you know I was here?" He asks, and I realise I'll have to concoct something quickly.

"It was a guess," I lie, fiddling with the hem of my t-shirt.

"That's not true, is it?" He mutters as I look up at him.

"Rafe," I sigh.

I watch as he pinches the bridge of his nose, "Please don't tell me you came here for drugs."

"Well I wasn't exactly stopping by for afternoon tea with Barry, was I?" I scoff, folding my arms across my chest.

"Sidney, you have no idea what that shit will do to you," He exclaims, "You don't need it."

"Do you know what it's like to be inside my head?" I ask bitterly, "It's like watching a horror film on repeat, every minute of every day, but there's no way of turning it off, it just goes round and round until I feel like my head will explode."

"Coke won't make that better." Rafe sighs, resting his hand on my knee.

"I think it's worth a try." I mutter.

"He hasn't even got any here anyway." Rafe replies.

"So that's why you're here?" I roll my eyes, "Why is it alright for you but not me?"

"It's just different." He sighs, standing up.

"How is it different?" I ask, also standing up beside him.

"Because I don't want you to get hooked on it." He tells me.

"Well I could ask JJ for some weed, if I hadn't already burned those bridges." I reply, still angered by his reaction.

"You weren't the ones who burned the bridges, Sid," He mutters, "They did that when they sided with a murderer."

"Rafe," I whisper, holding onto his hand desperately, "Please just get me something, something to make all of this stop."

"That's not going to happen, you know I can't do that to you Sid." He attempts to reason with me, resting his hands on my shoulders.

"Well then I may as well leave," I tell him firmly, shrugging his hands off of my shoulders, "Call me when you see that this makes sense."

I walk out of the porch, making my way down the steps, hoping that Rafe will see sense and run after me. But he doesn't, so I'm on my own again. I don't know any other dealers on the island, so the next best thing I can think of is alcohol.

My parents haven't opened the surf shop today, but I still have my key. So when I walked away from Rafe, the surf shop seemed like the best place to head. What could be better than free booze and no prying eyes with burning questions.

So now I'm sitting on the floor behind the bar, my back against the wall as I drink vodka straight from the bottle. The bitter taste fades after a few swigs, letting the clear liquid run over my tongue and down my throat.

I've already got through about half of the bottle, but clearly it's working because now I just feel numb. Not happy, not sad, just numb, and honestly I think that's the best alternative I have. I'd rather not feel a thing than be sad.

I feel like I've lost almost everything and everyone who I've ever cared about. As long as my friends think Rafe killed the sheriff they'll never have anything to say to me. He's all I have left, even my parents think I'm crazy.

As I begin to spiral I feel tears roll down my cheeks, the temporary numbness has dissipated and I'm back to being sad again. I take another gulp of vodka, sitting in the darkness as the closed shutters block out the light from outside.

Maybe I could just stay here forever.

Rafe knows exactly why he won't help Sidney get cocaine, he knows what it does, he knows what it's like to be hooked on it, and worst of all he knows what it's like to be dependent on it.

So when Sidney came to him in desperation he knew he couldn't give into her. He knew that it would ruin her, he knew that it would break her beyond repair.

He's more than aware that she's too good for him, that he doesn't deserve someone as good as her. But he's never going to stop protecting her, even if that means lying to her, or telling her things she doesn't want to hear.

So when Barry reminds him that there's a sizable bounty on John B's head, of course he's going to be fuelled by hunger and a need to keep John B from talking. Because if any of those pogues get inside Sidney's head, then it's over for Rafe.

Rafe and Barry have followed Kiara's car all the way to the boatyard, after seeing her speeding past them, it's an opportunity too good to miss. Maybe the pogues will lead them straight to John B.

"Let's go screw with some pogues." Barry grins as the pair of them climb off their bikes, heading inside the boatyard.

Rafe rounds the corner, walking straight into the path of Kiara as Barry heads towards JJ, hun in hand, "Hello stranger, what's going on here?"

"That's none of your business." She tells him firmly.

"None of my business?" Rafe scoffs, watching as Barry holds JJ at gunpoint, "It is when there's a murderer on the loose."

"And I'm looking right at him," Kiara tells him firmly as Barry pushes JJ to the ground, "I know exactly what you did, you murdered Peterkin."

Rafe reaches for her neck, gripping her tightly, "Take those words out of your mouth."

"She doesn't know, does she?" Kiara winces, trying to pry Rafe's hand off of her neck as Barry beats JJ, "Sidney doesn't have a clue of what you've done."

"I'd keep my girlfriend's name out of your mouth," He spits with resentment, tightening his grip, "She is doing just fine without you."

"You've done one hell of a number on her, haven't you?" Kiara exhales, aware from the look in his eyes that Sidney is his weak spot.

"She did that all herself," Rafe tells her, "It's not my fault that she trusts me more than you."

"What the fuck did you do to her?" JJ shouts at him.

"Hey JJ," Rafe looks at him, still holding onto Kiara's neck, "Respectfully, what me and my girlfriend get up to, is none of your business."

"Don't you dare talk about her like that." JJ exclaims, trying to escape Barry's clutches

But before he can, Pope, having snuck in, grabs a crowbar, violently thumping Rafe in the back with it, winding him as he lets go of Kiara.

"Don't fucking touch her," Pope shouts, hitting him again as Barry knocks JJ to the floor

Rafe knocks the crowbar out of Pope's hand, throwing a punch right at Pope. But Pope easily overpowers him, swinging another punch to his face.

"Hey, you better watch it," Barry exclaims, cocking his gun as he approaches Pope, but before he can reach him JJ grabs his ankle, bringing him to the floor and sending the gun sliding across the floor.

"Kie, Kick it!" JJ shouts as Kiara kicks the gun away.

The pogues have the power now, JJ throws Barry against the side of the boat, releasing the anger caused by his father's drug addiction, knowing Barry facilitated it. Meanwhile Pope continues to throw punches at Rafe, his anger consuming him just as Mr Hyde consumed Dr Jekyll.

"Pope, that's enough now," Kiara cries, trying to stop him.

"Pope he's had enough!" JJ shouts as Pope grabs some rope, holding it around Rafe's neck as blood drips from his mouth.

"Pope, get off!" Kiara shouts as Pope tightens the rope around Rafe's neck.

"Let go Pope!" JJ shouts, trying to free the rope from Pope's hands, the light in his eyes fading.

"Pope, look at me!" Kiara exclaims, causing Pope to drop the rope, Rafe falling to the floor.

"We've got to go." JJ asserts as Kiara makes her way back to the car, making sure the boat is secure.

Pope crouches over Rafe, observing the bloody mess he's created on Rafe's face before whispering, "Stay off the cut," Before turning to join Kiara and JJ.

"You think Sidney's going to want anything to do with you after this?" Rafe shouts in between coughs, doing his best not to swallow his own blood.

If the Pogues wanted a war, looks like they've got one.