When she finally awoke, the first few minutes, everything was normal, she was in her own bed, she was already thinking about work, the shopping she needed. Then the pain started. Her head throbbed; the glaring sunshine that peeked through the cracks of her curtains blinded her. As she reached up to press her forehead, the bruises around her wrist distracted her, she placed a finger to the cut on her lip, to the cut on her face wincing as she pressed down.

She pushed the covers from her legs, more bruises, more scratches. Once her feet finally found the cold wooden flooring underneath her the pain got worse, all over. She hobbled to the bathroom, switched on the light, nearly lost her balance when she stared at her reflection. She would have liked to say it looked worse than it felt, but it didn't. Her nose was bent out of shape, her cheeks were marked with cuts, her left eye black, her lips torn up.

Sitting down on the toilet she grabbed a hold of the wall beside her for support, not to keep her up, but to help her overcome what happened. She needed to hold it in, she didn't want it to break her, but she couldn't. The tears started, stinging the cuts, the memories started.

She's walking home, about to cross the road. A figure grabs her from behind; a hand goes over her mouth silencing her scream. She tries to fight back, but she's overcome by a second figure grabbing her legs. Her eyes go black. All she can feel is the humming of a vehicle underneath her. The slamming of some doors. The muffling of voices. Doesn't even know how long it is until it all stops. Until she's taken into warehouse. She notices the bikes at the back, she knows who these people are, she knows their names, their reputation. She knows them by name from headlines in the paper, or when she's assisted in their medical treatment from suspicious wounds at the hospital. Hell, she even went to school with one.

Jax stands before her, he's angry, shouting about the Blacks, about Opie, about her help. It's only then she realises Opie's bloodied body spread over the boot of a car, a Doctor she recognises from the hospital holding onto his leg, his hands dripping with red. Despite everything, despite her fear. Her work comes to the front of her mind. She runs over, takes off her jacket. Holds down onto the wound. She and the Doctor don't have a chance to exchange greetings, instead they start to work. It's his artery, the bullets ripped his artery, he's going to bleed out the Doctors saying over and over again. Looks like he already has. We open the wound, find the source, clamp it, get it under control. The Doctor can't do it, his hands are shaking too much, his gloveless fingers are slipping on the never ending blood. Opie's not breathing, she's started compressions, Doctor holds onto the wound so it doesn't bleed out, it already has. Seconds become minutes, a minute becomes an hour. She's drenched in sweat, her arms are shaking from the constant work, but she's too scared to stop. Slowly, the medical side of her is shutting down. She's starting to realise that Opie is dead, and she didn't save him. His blue eyes are lifeless, his skin has gone the pale colour of death. Starting to realise that she's surrounded by a bunch of guys all armed with guns and knives, all waiting for her and the Doc to save the day, save themselves.

Suddenly everything is quiet, everyone is quiet, they've all switched on. Opie's not going to live, they were too late. The Doctors apologising to Jax, holding his hands up, pleading for his life. I'm pleading for my life by continuing pressing up and down on Opie's chest; she won't dare look at his face, instead she focuses on the knots in his long hair, her mind talks to her. She hears the Doctor pleading for his life. Then everything changes. A gunshot, the Doctor drops to the floor. No no no no. She's crying now, still beating on Opie's chest,

"please please please please."

Chibs grabs her arm, tries to take her away, but she shoves him off, continues, 30 compressions, 2 breaths. 30 compressions, 2 breaths, save Opie, save yourself. Chibs grabs her again, this time around her waist, she's still got fight left in her but she's tired. Jax tells Chibs to put her on the floor, kick behind the knees and she's down. Jax is walking around her now, armed with his pistol. She tries to stand; put a firm hand on her shoulder pushes her back down.

"Stay down." She barely understands the low voice, but again she tries to stand.

"If you're going to kill me, you at least look at me." She chokes out, surprised at herself, how strong she sounds. She turns to face Jax, half kneeling, half standing. "You look at me. You dragged me into this, you look at me… you look at me!" She's shouting, aware that it's echoing throughout the warehouse, aware that now everyone's watching her. She hears a voice chime in, Juice, she'd recogonise that voice anywhere. The tattoos along his head, the knife scars down his arm make him look like a guy not to be messed with, until you hear his voice. It's soft, gentle, it's pleading for her life. Oh Juice, thank you Juice.

"She didn't do this; she shouldn't get blamed for this. She did more there then the Doctor ever did. She tried to save him, Jax don't do it." It's working, Jax no longer has the gun on her, it's down by his side. Instead he steps towards her, the last thing she remembers is the cold handle smashing against the side of her head.

Well, that's the last thing she wants to remember.

She's made it out from the bathroom; she sits against the wall in her bedroom, her head against the her drawers, her knees pressed up against her chest. She hears him before she sees him; she can't bring herself to move, not out of fear, out of exhaustion. He holds his hands up in a peace offering.

"You're ok. I'm not here to hurt you. You're ok." He says, his Scottish accent making it sound harsher than it is.

"What do you want?" she whispers.

"I brought you home, stayed over. Made sure you didn't choke on your vomit last night."

"Wouldn't it be better for you if I did? You and your gang?"

"Don't be like that." The sadness in his tone surprises her. He lowers himself to the floor slowly, facing her, his legs stretched out in front. She looks him dead on.

"Why did you do it?"

"You shouldn't have tried to run Violet. You shouldn't have run."

She shuts her eyes, buries her hands in her face. She remembers waking up in a small room alone. Remembers reaching for the window, dragging herself out. Remembers running along the wet grass realising she's round the back of the club, realising it's dark now, she could lose everyone in the neighbouring forest. She slips, loses a shoe, but keeps running. She hears the shouting behind her, she remembers tripping over a log, but still running. Then a guy comes out of nowhere, his fist connects with her nose at such an impact she landed onto her back, blood splattering all over her face. The rest catch up with her, Jax, Chibs. That's when she starts getting kicked over and over again. The occasional punch. She doesn't even feel it; she's too busy spitting leaves from her mouth. She doesn't remember when, but it stops.

She's that beaten up, nothing makes sense anymore. She's back in a little room. Jaxs sitting over her, one of her arms stretched out. She hears herself pleading with Jax not to do it. He's telling her, if she ever talks, they will destroy her reputation. He's telling her, if she hadn't ran they would have left her that this was her own fault.

She feels the prick of a needle go into her arm, feels a sudden sensation of calm over her. Her thoughts begin to muddle. Her vision clouds over, she doesn't feel pain anymore, she feels content. She hears Chibs, has a giggle at his accent.

"You know I'll do anything for you Jackie," he's saying as she rolls onto her front, looking around taking in her surroundings, confused why a cameras in front of the bed. "I'd die for you lad, but I can't do this. I can't."

"Fine. Leave it to me." Chibs is staring at her, she tries to reach out for him but he leaves before she can touch him. Jax's fiddling with the camera; he turns to face her, slowly taking his top off.

"I'm going to be sick." She's back to the present, she didn't want to remember, but she remembers, she's vomiting into the bin that Chibs has passed her. She's screaming, clawing at herself. "What has he done to me? What has he done?" He takes her up into his arms, places her into the shower fully clothed, running the water over her face, through her hair. She's still crying when he pats her down with a towel and placing her into bed. She falls asleep.