Scara Rose, The Warrior

Chapter 16

Scara's pov

"So Scara," Robin says, changing the subject as we all sit down, "why don't you tell us a little about yourself."

I feel all their eyes on me as I rack my brain to think of something to say. I'm used to speaking to an audience as I've delivered hundreds of profiles and even held a couple press conferences.

However the minute I start speaking in front of my entire family, I get cold feet.

"Ok," I start, "uh I have no idea what to say."

Everyone including me chuckles.

"Well, what did you like to do?" Regina clarifies with a smile.

"Well I didn't do much besides work," I say truthfully with a small laugh.

"What did you do?" Charming asks.

"I worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia."

"The FBI?" Henry asks with a bright smile. Everyone shares looks of shock at the information.

"How did you..." Emma begins to ask Henry, when Regina cuts her off.

"He went through an 'FBI stage'" she states, rubbing her temples.

"You worked for the FBI?" Henry asks in surprise.

"Yeah"

"So what does the Behavioral Analysis Unit do?" Snow asks.

"We mainly profile serial killers and work to put them away," I try to explain "but we also deal with kidnapping, terrorism, and pretty much everything else."

"Profile?" Killian asks confused.

"She means that they look at the crime scenes and bodies to get ahead of the killer," Henry answers with a bright smile.

I can't help, but feel pride. It seems my nephew has really looked into this.

"Henry's right," I say with pride, "The BAU studies human behavior."

"So you're an FBI profiler, cool!" Henry says as we all laugh.

"I still don't get this 'profiling.'" Killian points out.

"Well it's like this," I begin, as I start analyzing him and my sister.

"On a basic level, I can tell that you and my sister are in love. You're holding hands and both have a certain twinkle in your eyes when you hear or see the other. On a more advanced level however, I notice that you're still holding hands and are sitting closer than what is considered normal. I already know that you lost each other once to, well, death. However you are not all over each other like you would expect after just finding each other. Using all that, I can tell that this is not your first time losing each other, not even your second. I'm going to place my guess at four because even though it's not unfamiliar, it's still troubling you enough to need to feel each other constantly."

Everyone gives me a shocked expression as they turn to Emma and Killian.

"Judging by everyone's faces, I'm going to guess that I was right."

"Did you tell her all that?" Killian asks Emma in amazement.

"No."

Everyone claps as I take a quickly take a bow as a joke.

"Well this is fun and all," Regina says with a yawn, "but I think it's about time to turn in."

"But mom," Henry whines like a two year old, "I want to learn more."

"There's always tomorrow, son," Regina says sternly, "Who wants to take first watch?"

"I will," I volunteer.

"So will we," my mom chimes in, holding onto my dad's arm tighter.

Everyone says quick goodnights and heads to bed. Emma, Hook, and Henry head upstairs while Robin and Regina go to the downstairs room. Regina uses her magic to make a door appear in the threshold and shut behind them.

"So," Snow continues, as she and her husband come to sit across from me at the table, "what else can you tell us about you?"

"I um," I try to start, but end up laughing again, "Again I don't know where to start."

"Well how old are you?" Charming asks innocently.

That's actually a good question. Hell, I don't even know. I lost track of the days a long time ago, but I mean I couldn't have been too terribly long ago maybe 7 months to a year at the most.

"Uh, what month is it?"

They both a gaze at each other with surprised looks then turn their attention back to me.

"May," my father answers.

I widen my eyes at the news. This is bad.

I died in April, and I'm fairly certain I've been dead more than a few weeks.

"What year?" I ask in fear.

"2016," my mom answers rather reluctantly.

I quickly feel the need to stand up and pace back and forth on my side of the table. I feel a few tears stream down my face as my brain goes a million miles an hour.

"Two years," I mutter softly in disbelief, "I've been dead for two years."

I see tears in my parent's eyes as they stand up to come around the table. They come on either side of me and wrap me in a hug.

I'm squeezed tightly into a sandwich, but I don't care.

I need this. I haven't had anyone hug me since I died.

My parent's hug me until my tears dry. Then we sit down at the table again, only this time my parents are on either side of me.

"Scara," my mom coaxes, "I know this is a difficult question, but it needs to be asked sooner or later."

Oh shit, here it comes.

"How did you die?"